


One Direction

by Mica Eli Hall (Mickey_D)



Series: Five Boys and a Girl [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Arguing, Australia, Carnival, Chicago (City), Concerts, F/M, London, Miscommunication, One Direction Tours, Sexual Content, Skype, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:11:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 59
Words: 47,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mickey_D/pseuds/Mica%20Eli%20Hall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After competing on the X-Factor, five boys have rocketed into stardom. Harry, Niall, Liam, Louis, and Zayn are taking the world by storm, and the five are headed to Australia for a week. Niall's birthday is coming up and he invites his best friend with benefits, Delilah, to come to Australia with him. Traveling that far alone is a tad bit scary so Delilah invites Megan, a die-hard directioner, to come along, and Megan invites her best friend Micaela. The one hang up: Micaela swears she hates One Direction, but she won't give a reason. Only when Micaela and the five stars are forced to spend time together do secrets begin to come to light.With secrets, budding romances, and fights, is this Australian vacation a little to much...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Megan and Micaela

## Megan and Micaela

                “Oh my God! Oh my God!” Megan squealed. She leapt onto Micaela’s bed. “Wake up! Wake up! I have to tell you something!”

                “Wadoyawan?” Micaela rolled beneath Megan to squint up at her friend.

                “It’s about _you know_ _who_ ,” Megan whispered as if her insanity could be attributed to any other reason.

                “Shit, Megs. It’s three in the morning.”

                “But you have to see this!”

                Megan shoved her phone in her friend’s face. Micaela focused on a blurred picture. She was sure she’d seen this boy before, but with her clock clicking to 3:01 a.m. she would be lucky to recognize herself. The picture was of a boy, propped up on a pillow, wet hair slicked back. He was shirtless.

                “I care about this person why?”

                Megan replaced her phone with her face. “It’s Niall!”

                Micaela pulled the phone back into her line of sight. “Oh. I guess it is.” Micaela slumped back against her pillows.

                “You guess? He skyped her! They talked.”

                “And that is all well and good, but it could’ve waited.”

                Megan scoffed at her, scrolling through her phone. “She sent me all these pictures of Harry. He is so fucking hot.”

                “Go to sleep, Megs,” Micaela said pushing Megan off of her.

                “A real life romantic comedy cannot wait,” Megan retorted. She skipped off to her room.

                Micaela stared at her ceiling. Her fan needed dusting. It was her turn to go grocery shopping. Her car had absolutely no gas. When was the last time she did her laundry? Megan would probably want hers done as well. What was he doing right now? Micaela flipped on her side. He was unimportant, unconcerned, unreachable. He was out of her life. She closed her eyes praying the nightmares wouldn’t come.

 

                “Micaela!”

                She sat up soaking wet. “What time is it?”

                “I don’t know. Your screaming made me forget.”

                Micaela shoved the quilt off of her. Stumbling to the bathroom, she turned on the shower. Hot water cascaded down her. It took her a few minutes to realize she still had her pajamas on. She peeled the wet clothes off and dropped them on the bottom of the tub.

                Megan sat on the couch texting Delilah. In the background she could hear Micaela’s shower. Micaela, the girl she could tell anything to, had these horrendous nightmares that she refused to explain to her. It bothered her, but maybe she didn’t want to know if Micaela screamed when she had them.

 **Megan:** What did you say when he asked you out?

 **Delilah:** No. My life is too complicated.

 **Megan:** Oh, well if you see him again, tell him I’m interested. I’d like me an Irish boy.

 **Delilah:** Okay. I’ve already got an Irish boy anyway.

 **Megan:** Awww…:]:]

                Micaela walked into the living room. Megan looked up. Her friend’s eyes were bloodshot. She’d been crying. Again.

                “I’m going to go grocery shopping. Want anything special?”

                “Nope. I’m good.” Megan chirped.

                “Okay…shit,” Micaela muttered.

                “What’s wrong, honey?” Megan watched her from the couch.

                Micaela leaned against the open fridge door assessing their inventory. Closing the door she said, “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

 **Megan:** Micaela cried again.

 **Delilah:** Why???

 **Megan:** Dunno. Didn’t ask.

 **Delilah:** So you haven’t told her yet.

 **Megan:** Tell her what???

 **Delilah:** Don’t be ridiculous. The BIG news!!! Australia!

 **Megan:** Oh yeahhh…

                Megan pushed herself off the couch to discover what they had for breakfast. Empty Poptart box, half empty Cheerios–Micaela’s choice not hers. The fridge held nothing but fruit. (Micaela was on one of her health kicks again.) Megan called Micaela to request something for breakfast.

                “Hey, bestie!”

                Micaela put the chip bag back on the shelf. “What’s up?”

                “Wanted to place an order for breakfast.”

                Micaela inspected different sized jars of peanut butter. “What do you want?” She chose the larger jar.

                Megan twirled in a circle in the kitchen. “Hmmm…how about…”

                Waiting for Megan to decide Micaela arrive at the magazine rack. Every magazine had them on it: One Direction. Their faces smiled at her from fifty glossy covers. She picked one up and flipped through the pictures. One day, many months ago, she’d tried to read one. It ended up being torn into tiny pieces and shuffled and reshuffled into little piles. Megan had acted as if she’d burned the Bible or something.

                “Get a dozen donuts, please.”

                “What?” Micaela asked coming back to the present.

                “For breakfast I want a dozen donuts.”

                “Kk. I’ll be home soon.”

                Off the phone. Micaela started singing. She got a strange looks from a couple of fellow customers, but she didn’t care. “I want-I want, but that’s crazy…” She crumbled when she got to the ice cream. Micaela needed some double chocolate fudge after such a rough night.


	2. Liam and Danielle

## Liam and Danielle

                Sun streamed through the floor to ceiling windows that looked out on downtown London. The mover set the last box amongst the others and wiped his brow. Liam led Danielle through the door, hands covering her eyes.

                “Liam…let me see! I’m going to fall over,” Danielle said.

                “Do you trust me or not?”

                “I trust you, but…”

                “Ready?”

                “Yes,” Danielle said clapping her hands excitedly.

                “Are you positive?”

                “Yes, Liam, let me see!”

                He pulled his hands away slowly.

                “Oh, Liam!” Danielle smiled wide and danced in a little circle. “It’s wonderful!” She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. He locked his hand in her thick hair pulling her lips to his. She relaxed her body into his. A hand ran down her back, shivers radiating from his touch. Her breath hitched in her throat as his lips trailed from hers.

                His phone rang.

                “Just ignore it,” she murmured. She pulled on his shirt to keep him close.

                His phone continued to ring. He pulled it form his pocket while he mouthed _Sorry_ to her. Danielle pretended to pout, but got satisfaction by distracting him with her fingers beneath his shirt.

                “Uh-hello?”

                “Hey, am I interrupting something?”

                A growl tickled the back of Liam’s throat as her fingers danced around the top of his jeans. “No, Niall, nothing at all,” Liam replied twisting his finger in Danielle’s hair.

                “I’m sensing sarcasm.”

                “Really?”

                Niall ignored Liam’s implied hints to go away. “It’s about Delilah.”

                Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can’t it wait?”

                “No.”

                Liam leaned against the wall. Danielle rolled her eyes, walking away with a smile. “What’s up with the lucky girl, mate?”

                “I think she likes me.”

                “She’s your best friend; she’d better like you.”

                “No, I mean, I think she like likes me.”

                Liam laughed. “Are you suddenly a high school girl? She _like likes_ you?”

                “Liam,” Niall growled.

                “If she like likes you ask her out.”

                “But what if she can’t handle it.”

                “Handle what?”

                “All the hate and stuff.”

                “Delilah is a big girl; she can handle it.”

                Niall sighed. “Okay. Maybe. I don’t know. What if she doesn’t like me?”

                “You’ll have to figure this out on your own, mate. I’m not a mind reader.”

                “Her parents don’t like me.”

                “Bloody Hell. Who cares?”

                “Me and Delilah.”

                Liam ran a hand through his hair. “Can we talk about this later? Danielle and I just got to our flat.”

                “See! I knew I was interrupting,” Niall hung up with a quick goodbye.

                Liam went into the bedroom where Danielle was spread eagle on the mattress. Liam flopped down next to her. His hand slipped beneath her shirt and rubbed her warm skin. She twisted a finger in his hair. “What was that about?” she asked.

                “Delilah.”

                She rolled on top of him. “When are they going to get together?”

                “Soon I hope.” She smiled as she leaned in for a diss. “Then he’ll leave you alone…” Her lips met his for a teasing moment before she bounced away. “Let’s unpack!”

                “Really?” Liam sighed.

                “Yes! Come on!” He bounded down the hallway singing a string of la-las with no particular tune or tone. Liam chuckled as he followed her out to the living room. Danielle already had a box open. She was examining one of its contents: a shirt of his that was missing a few buttons and the hem was fraying.

                “Do you really need this shirt still?”

                He loved her eyes. They were the totally cliché dark pools that he loved to drown in. Now those eyes were asking him to give up his favorite shirt. That was out of the question.

                “Absolutely.”

                “But it’s dying, love.”

                “It’s still got a few more good times left in it.”

                Danielle shook her head and tossed the shirt to him. He placed it next to the box and opened another. A picture lay on top. It was years old, but still one of his favorites. She was standing next to Liam at a birthday party for Harry. There’d been a sundae bar that included cans of whipped cream. Liam thought it’d be funny to empty one onto her and she had happily returned the favor. In the picture they were both covered in whipped cream–she was in the process of smearing more across his face.

                “Do you remember this?”

                “Of course I do!” Danielle replied joining in his laughter. “That’s the night you first kissed me.” She rose from the couch to place the picture in the center of the mantel. Liam came behind her, his hands on her waist.

                “When is dinner?” she murmured.

                “We have to be at Louis’ by seven.”

                Danielle leaned into him, her hands reaching up to toy with his hair.

                “Danielle, I have to…” she turned to face him. Liam stuttered as he failed to remember the words he’d rehearsed a thousand times in his mind.

                “You have to what?”

                He dropped her gaze as a blush crept into his cheeks. Perhaps he should wait a little longer. “You have to what, Liam?”

                He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her. She bit his bottom li asking for him to open up and let her in. He pulled back so he had just enough room to talk. “Will you marry me?”

                Reaching into his back pocket he went down on one knee. Danielle covered her mouth as the tears squeezed their way from her eyes.


	3. Harry, Louis, and Eleanor

## Harry, Louis, and Eleanor

                “Good morning, sleepy head,” she murmured resting her head on his chest.

                “Good morning,” Harry returned sleepily rubbing her back with his hand.

                “I was going to get breakfast. Do you want anything specific?”

                Harry rubbed his face with his hand as if he forgot something and just remembered it. “I can’t do breakfast. Me and the boys have an interview with some magazine.” 

                Her face looked crestfallen for a moment, but she covered with a cheery smile. “Okay.” She reached across him for the pen on the nightstand. “Call me when you have some downtime.” She scribbled her name and number on his arm.

                “Will do,” Harry gave her one more kiss.

                She crawled off the bed and clumsily pulled on her clothes. Running her fingers through her hair, she grabbed her purse and headed out of the room. Harry walked her to the door, a hand on her back.

                “Call me,” she said in lieu of good-bye.

                “Sure,” Harry dismissed casually.

                She walked towards the elevator looking over her shoulder and waving. Before she reached them, the elevator doors slid open revealing Louis with three cups of tea. She smiled at her feet as he passed her with a, “Hey, beautiful.”

                “Who was that?” Louis inquired.

                Harry shrugged. “No idea.”

                Louis rolled his eyes. “You really need to work on that.” He passed his friend noticing the number on his arm. “Her name was Polly.” Harry squinted at the black ink scrawl on his arm.

                “Want some tea?” Louis held up the cups he’d brought.

                “Sure,” Harry sighed with a roll of his eyes.

                “Where’d you meet Polly?”

                “Who?”

                “Harry…”

                “Oh, that girl.” Harry shrugged. “Talked to her on the street before last night’s show and then she was backstage and single and available, so I brought her back here.”

                “Mhm,” Louis said through a sip of tea.

                Harry dropped onto to the couch and flipped through television channels. A few pictures of him and the boys flashed across a pretty blonde’s report on their success and rumors of who’s dating who. Louis dropped into the seat next to him in the middle of texting Eleanor.

                “Are you still going to lunch with us?” Louis asked.

                “Yeah. Are you okay with that?”

                “As long as you put some clothes on before she meets us here.”

                Harry gave him a mischievous smile. “Think she’ll dump you for this good looking young man?”

                Louis rolled his eyes. “No, but I don’t want her to be uncomfortable.”

                Harry left the couch to find some semi-clean clothes. Louis called Eleanor.

                “Hey, love,” she greeted.

                “Hey, Ellie. He’s still coming to lunch with us.”

                “When are you ever going to learn to say no to him?”

                “Soon enough.”

                “This lunch was supposed to be for the two of us before you left for Australia. There’s the dinner tonight, but that’s everyone and then you leave the day after tomorrow and I’m working tomorrow.”

                “Maybe I’ll drop by tomorrow.”

                “Well come later; you’ll be less likely to cause a scene.”

                Louis laughed. “I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

                “Love you, too.”

                Harry shook his hair out and flipped it to the side like he always did. In the mirror he saw the phone number still on his arm. He ran the hot water, grabbed a washcloth, and began scrubbing. As the numbers faded the lie became clear in his head. He’d forgotten to get her number from his arm before showering. It was unlikely he’d see her again anyway, but just in case…

                “Harry! Eleanor’s downstairs!”

                “Coming!” he shouted back.

                Eleanor sat in her car tapping her thumbs on the steering wheel along with the song on the radio. A few of the people milling outside the apartments were obviously paparazzi, but she wasn’t going to bother with them. They were running out of creative ways to explain why Harry was constantly with the “happy couple”. Her favorite–one that always made her smile–was that the three of them were in some perverted love triangle and had discussed doing something along the lines of sister wives.

                It was like a slow motion scene from a movie when the two boys exited the building. Harry and Louis came out sunglasses on, laughing at something one of them had said. Harry flipped his hair flashing the madly clicking cameras his best grin. Louis ran his hand through his hair simultaneously waving with the other to someone down the street. Harry slid into the backseat as Louis took his place next to Eleanor. Louis gave Eleanor a small, sweet kiss for the cameras before their car headed to lunch.

                “So where are we going again?” Harry asked popping his head between Eleanor and Louis.

                “I told you, Harry. That little place down on Fourth Street; Rooney’s or something like that.” Louis said.

                Harry slumped in the back seat. Niall texted him.

**Niall:** What should I do about Delilah?

**Harry:** Bang her.

**Niall:** You’re not being helpful.

**Harry:** Haha. I’ll ask Louis.

            “What should Niall do about Delilah?” Harry asked Louis.

                “That girl form backstage at the X-Factor?”

                “Yeah.”

                “They should get together,” Eleanor gushed. “He needs to be a big boy and ask her out!”

**Harry:** Eleanor thinks you should grow a pair and ask her out.

**Niall:** You told Eleanor…ugh.


	4. Zayn

## Zayn

                Something important was happening today, but he couldn’t remember. It was like this every year. He could almost think of it, but it never came clear. Tonight was the dinner at Eleanor’s but that wasn’t an annual occurrence.

                Zayn dropped his gym bag by his front door throwing his keys on top. A water front eh fridge and the remote settle in with him in front of the television. His shar-pei Boris curled up next to him with a loving lick. Zayn would wait to stop sweating before he took a shower. He feet hurt. Kicking off his shoes he really longed for a foot rub from–

                That was it!

                Zayn jumped from the couch–scaring poor Boris half to death–and ran to his bedroom. He tore through his nightstand drawers until he found it. A small envelope with an eighteen year old boy’s handwriting declaring its destination. The red stamp had faded, but not enough to be incomprehensible. Return To Sender was stamped between his return address and the stamp. Why hadn’t he just left it with her was beyond him. It would have been nicer than what he’d done. Better late than never, though.

                Zayn hurried downstairs and back into his car. He probably should’ve showered first–his hair would probably look better–but for once he didn’t care. His goal was the post office. Why was he going to the post office? She was probably still there. He made a completely illegal U-turn to get to her.

                The house looked the same, except the window boxes were devoid of flowers; Aunt Millie must be travelling. Zayn fumbled with the keys as he tried to turn off the car. Practically face planting as he lurched from the car, he was lucky he got to the door without injury. He rang the door bell at least fifty times.

                “Who are you?” Zayn was confronted by a grumpy old man with thick bifocals. Zayn’s mouth open and closed, but he was too shocked and confused to say anything pertinent. “Helen! Come here! There’s a salesman here wanting to sell us a funeral!”

                The old man shuffled away. Zayn was not dressed for the part of funeral selling salesman, but he had no words to argue with. The creaking of a wheel chair brought an older woman to the front door.

                “Why are you bothering us?” she demanded.

                Zayn shoved the envelope in his pocket. “Do you know where Mr. Mildred Burrows is?”

                “Who?”

                “She used to live here with her niece. Do you know where they went?”

                “No. I don’t remember any young lady. I do remember an older woman with bright pink hair. She’s the one who sold the place. I don’t know where she went nor do I care.”

                “Thanks.”

                Zayn clunked down the stairs and back to his car. He was definitely more controlled than he had been. He ignored the screams and the cameras, too caught up in his own thoughts. Aunt Millie must have a new boyfriend if her hair was pink. Of course by now it could be neon green or lemon yellow, but last time he had seen her it had been baby blue. A different color, a different guy.

                In his apartment, Zayn found one of the few books he owned under his bed along with the missing sock he’d been looking for for the past month. The book had been there longer than the sock; a nice blanket of dust had kept it warm for the past year. He remembered unpacking it. The day had gone so badly–his stuff had ended up soaking wet scattered over the London streets–that he’d kicked the book under his bed. Zayn rifled through the wrinkled pages to Chapter Thirteen.

                Half a picture, one of the last from the cheap disposable camera she’d bought, was tucked between the pages. Her right arm was torn in half, but if it was whole, that arm would be looped through his. He’d be smiling at her while she blushed away from him. He had probably bitten his lip; that always brought a little color to her cheeks. The six of them had decided to go for a walk on the semi-sunny day. Zayn turned the picture over. “Call me” was printed in her exact script along with the ten digit phone number. He’d made her a promise to call her when he was back in town. He hadn’t called her in three years.

Zayn  
Something important was happening today, but he couldn’t remember. It was like this every year. He could almost think of it, but it never came clear. Tonight was the dinner at Eleanor’s but that wasn’t an annual occurrence.  
Zayn dropped his gym bag by his front door throwing his keys on top. A water front eh fridge and the remote settle in with him in front of the television. His shar-pei Boris curled up next to him with a loving lick. Zayn would wait to stop sweating before he took a shower. He feet hurt. Kicking off his shoes he really longed for a foot rub from–  
That was it!  
Zayn jumped from the couch–scaring poor Boris half to death–and ran to his bedroom. He tore through his nightstand drawers until he found it. A small envelope with an eighteen year old boy’s handwriting declaring its destination. The red stamp had faded, but not enough to be incomprehensible. Return To Sender was stamped between his return address and the stamp. Why hadn’t he just left it with her was beyond him. It would have been nicer than what he’d done. Better late than never, though.  
Zayn hurried downstairs and back into his car. He probably should’ve showered first–his hair would probably look better–but for once he didn’t care. His goal was the post office. Why was he going to the post office? She was probably still there. He made a completely illegal U-turn to get to her.  
The house looked the same, except the window boxes were devoid of flowers; Aunt Millie must be travelling. Zayn fumbled with the keys as he tried to turn off the car. Practically face planting as he lurched from the car, he was lucky he got to the door without injury. He rang the door bell at least fifty times.  
“Who are you?” Zayn was confronted by a grumpy old man with thick bifocals. Zayn’s mouth open and closed, but he was too shocked and confused to say anything pertinent. “Helen! Come here! There’s a salesman here wanting to sell us a funeral!”  
The old man shuffled away. Zayn was not dressed for the part of funeral selling salesman, but he had no words to argue with. The creaking of a wheel chair brought an older woman to the front door.  
“Why are you bothering us?” she demanded.  
Zayn shoved the envelope in his pocket. “Do you know where Mr. Mildred Burrows is?”  
“Who?”  
“She used to live here with her niece. Do you know where they went?”  
“No. I don’t remember any young lady. I do remember an older woman with bright pink hair. She’s the one who sold the place. I don’t know where she went nor do I care.”  
“Thanks.”  
Zayn clunked down the stairs and back to his car. He was definitely more controlled than he had been. He ignored the screams and the cameras, too caught up in his own thoughts. Aunt Millie must have a new boyfriend if her hair was pink. Of course by now it could be neon green or lemon yellow, but last time he had seen her it had been baby blue. A different color, a different guy.  
In his apartment, Zayn found one of the few books he owned under his bed along with the missing sock he’d been looking for for the past month. The book had been there longer than the sock; a nice blanket of dust had kept it warm for the past year. He remembered unpacking it. The day had gone so badly–his stuff had ended up soaking wet scattered over the London streets–that he’d kicked the book under his bed. Zayn rifled through the wrinkled pages to Chapter Thirteen.  
Half a picture, one of the last from the cheap disposable camera she’d bought, was tucked between the pages. Her right arm was torn in half, but if it was whole, that arm would be looped through his. He’d be smiling at her while she blushed away from him. He had probably bitten his lip; that always brought a little color to her cheeks. The six of them had decided to go for a walk on the semi-sunny day. Zayn turned the picture over. “Call me” was printed in her exact script along with the ten digit phone number. He’d made her a promise to call her when he was back in town. He hadn’t called her in three years.


	5. Megan and Micaela

## Megan and Micaela

                Megan twisted the handle before opening the door. She needed to catch Micaela red-handed. The music was playing; their music. No matter how many times Micaela tried to deny it, Megan knew that she loved One Direction as much as she did. The two girls told each other everything and secrets weren’t kept for more than two minutes usually. Megan was expecting Micaela to be singing along and cleaning something or playing a video game. She was not expecting to find Micaela sitting in the middle of their apartment taping together a picture form a magazine. “What are you doing?”               

                Bloodshot eyes met Megan’s. “Nothing.” The picture was crumpled between two shaking fists and landed twenty feet away from its destination: the trash can.

                Megan acted uninterested–her curiosity was killing her–humming her way to the kitchen. Micaela picked herself up from the floor and followed. “What aren’t you telling me?” Micaela inquired.

                “Oh, nothing.” Megan began digging through her purse. “Where did that darn thing go?”

                “What’s going on?”

                “Here it is!” Megan produced a thick envelope with Micaela’s name in the center.

                “What’s this?”

                “Just open it,” Megan said.

                Carefully Micaela slid her finger under the flap to open it. A bright pink, orange, and read card emerged with ‘Happy Birthday” stamped on it in clack clock letters. On the inside were the words ‘Hope your day is beautiful’ on the right and on the left was a square piece of something that reflected a wavy image of Micaela’s face. Upon opening the card One Direction sang the chorus of _What Makes You Beautiful._ Micaela quickly closed the card and left it on the counter. “Thanks, Megs.”

                Megan began to ask a question, but her phone interrupted her. “Hello?”

                “Hey, babe,” a male voice slurred. “Come pick me up.”

                “Darren, you called the wrong girl. I’m not your chauffer anymore.”

                “Don’t be difficult, damn it. Get your boney ass down here and pick me up. I’m outside of Charlie’s.”

                “It’s me, Megan. You broke up with me last month.”

                “Don’t lie to me bitch! You worthless piece of–” His string of curses and insults was cut off as Micaela snapped Megan’s phone closed. “You’re not supposed to pick up when it’s him.”              

                Megan put her phone in her back pocket. “There was no name with the number.” Switching topics. “You hate your card don’t you.” There was the crack of incoming tears in her voice. Micaela went in for a hug.

                “Don’t let him inside your head, Megs.”

                Megan’s fingers tugged along the bottom of her shirt. “I’m trying.”

                Micaela held on tighter. “You are not worthless. Who else could I tell all my secrets to? Who else would wake me up with a bucket of water?”

                That reminded Megan’s curiosity of Micaela’s odd behavior. Micaela was turning nineteen today and she didn’t seem excited. She smelled pretty bad which meant she’d gone to the gym–she only went to the gym to blow off steam or stop crying. Micaela–a now confirmed closeted One Direction fan–hadn’t gotten excited or that really dorky grin she got when she was really happy when she opened her card.

                “What nightmare did you have last night?” Megan ventured.

                “I smell don’t I? I went to the gym while you were out. I should shower.”

                “Don’t ignore me, Mickey-D! Megan insisted as she followed Micaela to the bathroom. Micaela turned to her in the doorway. “If I told you, Megan, you’d have nightmares.” Micaela closed the bathroom door and locked Megan out.

                Megan sat against the wall next to the door. Pulling out her phone she went to Recent Calls and found the number Darren had called her from. She typed in his name and saved the new phone number to her address book. Darren’s typical payphone must have been in use when he needed to call someone. He never used the expensive phone he had. Megan found the picture of Niall from last night to cheer herself up.

                Micaela stepped out of the shower. Her white fluffy towel dried her quickly, but pulled the fresh scab from her wrist. Micaela bit her lip to keep from crying out. She gently patted the skin around her cut and searched the medicine cabinet for a band-aid. She was lucky enough to claim a square bandage large enough to cover it. Wrapping the towel around herself she opened the bathroom door.

                “Thought you’d never get out,” Megan said causing Micaela to jump.

                “Megan, you scared me!”

                “I know,” Megan said with a smile. “That was the plan.”

                Micaela held her towel tighter with her bandaged wrist hoping Megan would notice. Megan followed her to her room.   

                “So,” Megan began, drawing out the word.

                “What?” Micaela asked catching onto the secret Megan was holding.

                “I have something to tell you.”

                “I got that.” Micaela’s eye lit up as her excited curiosity grew.

                Megan sat on Micaela’s bed. “You may want to sit down for this.”

                Micaela’s stomach filled with butterflies. Megan seemed to talk to her feet. “You know how I’ve been talking to Delilah.” Micaela nodded. “Well, Niall is going to fly Delilah out for his birthday. She can bring someone with her. Well…she invited me. I of course said yes, but I didn’t want to travel all alone. She said I shouldn’t travel so far alone anyway and told me to bring a friend. The more the merrier. So I’m taking you with me to stay with Delilah and the boys in Australia.”

                “What?”

                Megan hugged her. “We’re going to Australia!”

                Micaela untangled herself so she could sprint to the bathroom. Curled over the toilet she vomited her small lunch into the porcelain bowl.

                “What’s wrong?” Megan demanded.

                Micaela flushed and rose to rinse her mouth. “Nothing.”

                “I was expecting screams of joy and a lot of jumping up and down hugging, not puking.”

                “Lunch didn’t agree with me.”

                “Are you excited about Australia?”

                Micaela faced her with the fakest smile Megan had ever seen. “Of course I am. It’s not every lucky girl who gets to stay with those boys.” She gave her friend a hug. “When do we leave?”

                “Haha. Funny thing. Didn’t realize how close your birthday was. We leave tomorrow.”

                Micaela froze. “Tomorrow?”      

                “Uh-huh.”

                “Megs! How long have you known?”

                “A few months now I guess.”

                “How could you not tell me for a few months? I haven’t packed, haven’t asked off work, haven’t even looked at ticket prices.”

                Megan stopped her list. “I’ve taken care of everything.”

                “You bought me a 1600 dollar ticket?”

                Megan nodded.

                “You told the Clanceys I would be gone?”

                Again Megan nodded.

                “You packed me a bag?”

                “How long is it going to take you to pack?”

                Micaela leaned against the wall. “Holy crap.”

                “We’ll be watching their concert from backstage and then hanging out with them for a few days.” Megan feared Micaela would throw up again, but her friend id little more than let her fake smile falter for a moment.

                “Help me pack, would ya, Megs?”


	6. Liam and Danielle

## Liam and Danielle

                Louis buzzed them in, but not in enough time to catch the very full elevator.

                “Let’s take the stairs,” she suggested.

                Liam looked at her funny. “You want to climb seven flights of stairs in those shoes?” Danielle wore heels practically everywhere but the gym.

                “I can do it, Liam.” She tugged him to the stair way and started climbing.

 

                Harry opened the door. “What took you guys so long?” A beer in his hand.

                “She thought we should take the stairs.”

                Harry looked at Danielle funny now. “The stairs? Why not wait for the elevator?”

                Danielle shrugged. “I’m not patient enough.”

                “Harry let ‘em in. we’re in the middle of the song,” Zayn called.

                Liam and Danielle entered Eleanor’s apartment. Zayn, Niall, and Harry were playing Rock Band. Eleanor and Louis were laughing and cooking in the kitchen. Liam flopped onto the couch to heckle the players. Danielle went to the kitchen to help Eleanor.

                “Louis why don’t you go play with the boys,” Eleanor suggested. “Danielle and I can handle the kitchen.”

                Once they were alone, Danielle dropped her voice so they couldn’t hear her in the living room. “I want to tell you something before Liam tells everyone at dinner.” She held out her hand for Eleanor to see. Eleanor’s eyes grew wide and she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep her joy contained.

                “Oh, Danielle!” She whispered excitedly. She gave the fiancé a tight hug. “This is so exciting!”

                “Liam is going to tell everyone at dinner, but I wanted to tell you first.”

                Eleanor started humming to herself as she checked the pasta. “I thought a nice home cooked meal would be a nice send off.”

                “Yes it is. What can I do?”

                Not looking away front the pasta sauce, “Could you make the salad?”

                “Sure,” Danielle bustled between the fridge and t he island as she prepared the salad. Eleanor watched over the past and periodically checked the garlic bread in the oven.

 

                They were always loud when they were all together; sentences and stories overlapped, laughter lasted for twenty minutes, no food was ever left over. Harry sat at the head. Louis was to his left with a hand on Eleanor’s leg. Niall was next to her laughing at something Liam had said. Zayn was opposite Harry. Liam and Danielle sat across from Louis and Eleanor.

                Liam stood with a grin. “I have something to announce.” The table grew quiet looking expectantly at him. Liam cleared his throat. “As you all know we moved in together and now we’ve made another decision.” A large smile split across Danielle’s face.  “We’re getting married.”

                Joyous exclamations burst forth accompanied by hugs and hearty pats on the back. Danielle showed off her ring, though Eleanor was the only one who really cared.

                “I’d like to propose a toast,” Niall said raising his bottle. The group listened attentively. “To our friends’ happiness. May good luck and good times stay with you.”

                They drank to that. Zayn offered his congratulations but forced a smile. Their happiness forced him to reflect on his own failure. Harry’s smile wasn’t forced, but he was envious. He didn’t want to give up the fun he was having now, but he wanted a girl to look at him in the way that Danielle was looking at Liam.

 

                Harry lay awake starring at the ceiling. “Hey, Lou, you awake?”

                “What Harry?” Louis wasn’t happy; being awoken from a half-sleep was not fun.

                “What do you think about Liam and Danielle getting engaged?”

                “I think it’s great, Harry. Why?”

                “Maybe it’s too soon.”

                “Drop it, Harry. Go to sleep.”

                “Do you think someone could love me enough to marry me?”

                “Shut up, Harry. I’m not talking about this now.”

                “Do you think so or not?”

                “Stop acting like an insecure little girl,” Louis growled. He drew a hand over his face. “Maybe if you stopped looking at girls for sex. There is more to them than that.”

                Harry let the conversation end, rolling onto his side. He vaguely remembered a picture of one of Delilah’s friends. He’d thought she was cute. _I wonder what she’s like…_ he thought to himself.


	7. Megan and Micaela

## Megan and Micaela

                She thought she looked fat and this dress was way too short. She angrily ripped it off and threw it on the floor where it joined several others. She could feel them coming, hot and angry. She wouldn’t let them show. She wouldn’t let them fall. She wouldn’t–“Damn!” Megan hissed as the tears defied her will.

                Micaela walked in with a banana half eaten. “What’s wrong?”

                “That dress makes me look fat.”

                Micaela picked up the limp fabric between her fingers as if it was a used tissue. “This one?”

                Megan nodded, swiping at her tears.

                “Put it on.”

                “No.”

                “Yes.”

                “No,” Megan whined.

                “Yes.” Micaela flung the dress at her. Megan pulled the dress on while glaring at Micaela. It was purple, a deep plumy violet with a black belt around the waist, a plunging neck line between two puffy sleeves. “Where do you look fat?”

                “Everywhere. I look like a big, fat, lumpy, marshmallow,” Megan grumbled.

                Micaela put her hands over Megan’s eyes. “You are not an ugly marshmallow. You are a beautiful, intelligent, young woman. You are perfect.” Micaela removed her hands so Megan could see herself in the mirror.

                “Thanks, Micaela.”

                “Put that in your suitcase and get ready to go on the plane.”

                Megan blinked her eyes slowly at Micaela. “Why would I put it in my suitcase?”

                “You’re not planning on wearing that on the plane, are you?”

                “Well…I don’t…not…” Megan failed to finish her sentence.

                “Megan, it’s practically a two day flight! You can’t wear that! Why would you wear that?”

                “We’re going to be stepping off the plane and seeing Niall and Delilah; I want to look good.”

                Micaela smiled at Megan’s silly notion. Megan wasn’t vain; she was damaged by a boy who was unworthy of her. Micaela remembered walking in on Darren’s temper. He stood in the living room, Megan sitting on the couch staring at the dark television. He was shouting insults (Micaela remembers ‘worthless piece of shit’ and ‘boney assed whore’ the best). Darren’s words choked him when he saw Micaela in the door…

                “Micaela.” Megan snapped her fingers in front of her fiend’s face.

                “Sorry.” Megan had listened to her ex-boyfriend’s insults for thirteen months before he broke up with her (which Micaela may or may not have had something to do with). Megan fidgeted with her dress again. “Are you sure I don’t look like a marshmallow?”

                “100% positive! There is nothing marhmallowy about you. Take it off and get ready for the plane.” Micaela took the final bite of banana and left the room. “If we don’t leave now, we’ll miss the plane.”

 

                Megan shifted in the seat next to her, her eyes fluttering open. “I thought I told you to get some sleep.”

                “We both know what happens when I sleep.” Micaela murmured sucking her third Coke down.

                “You won’t have one of your _mysterious_ nightmares. No one sleeps that well on a plane.”

                Micaela stared at her hands. Megan’s hint reminded her of all the things she’d failed to tell her friend or sugarcoated. She never told her friend about the nightmares because then Megan would ask more questions that would complicate an already complicated story even more complicated. Micaela’s grip on the can tightened denting it. Her nerves were getting the best of her and Megan needed her to be calm and glued together; Megan finally meeting the boy of her dreams–i.e. Harry Styles–was going to take a cool head to handle. But when Megan met Harry, he would be there with his smile and his big eyes and his hair…

                “Can I take that from you?” a stewardess asked.

                The can was crushed between her fingers. Micaela handed it over, already feeling a sugar crash coming. She settled into her seat fists clenching and unclenching.

                “If you get some sleep now you’ll be well rested when we meet the boys.”

                Micaela smiled. It would be Niall first at the airport and the rest of the boys later at the concert. Micaela would have plenty of time to prepare.

                “Goodnight, Megs.”

                Her friend settle back to sleep, leaving Micaela scarred and awake. She’d simply get another Coke and listen to music.  She could say awake that way and not have to see anyone. The stewardess seemed nice; maybe she could talk to her.

                “Could I have another Coke?”

                The stewardess smiled, her sympathy showing through. “The drinks are locked away. I can’t get you anything right now. Why don’t you try to sleep?” Micaela starred at the woman, eyes accusing her of some unknown crime, but settled back in her seat. Megan could be right. Who sleeps well enough to actually have any dreams on a plane?

                Megan lay awake next to Micaela silently praying her friend could get some sleep. Micaela eventually grew quieter and seemed to be okay, so Megan let herself drift.

Run fast. Run fast.

Don’t trip. Don’t trip.

Faster. Faster.

_I’m coming for you…hahaha…_

Look out for that tree!

Those eyes! Those eyes!

_Stop! You’re hurting me! Please stop!_

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

_Help me! Help me!_

_…hahaha…_

                “Zayn!” Micaela’s eyes rolled beneath her still closed eyelids. Megan’s snapped open. “Help me,” her friend whispered. “Where are you? Help me!”

                “Are you alright, miss?”

                Megan felt Micaela jump and then struggled from the seat. Her ears followed Micaela as she stumbled down the aisle and slammed the bathroom door. Megan looked around her to see if Micaela’s outburst had bothered anyone else. An old woman across the aisle was glaring at her.


	8. Delilah and Niall

## Delilah and Niall

                Clutching the strap of her purse, Delilah exited the terminal. She barely glanced at the young blonde reading the newspaper. He had sunglasses covering her eyes, which Delilah thought was odd, but there were odd people in this world. She passed him by without a backwards glance. As she passed him, he folded the newspaper, tucked it under her arm and followed. Ahead of him she was craning her neck and looking around for someone. He smiled to himself. He came close to her and said, “Looking for someone?”

                She jumped, spinning around to slap him, but his hand caught her wrist. “Let go of–” His sunglasses flickered up and down. Her mouth formed a perfect O before she whispered, “Niall!” Her arms squeezed his middle. “I missed you so much!” He stroked her blonde hair and smiled to himself. “I missed you too,” he said quietly.

                He took her hand and led her to his car. A black BMW awaited them. “So how’s my little bird been?” Niall asked as he held open the door for her.

          She waited for him to get in the driver’s side before answering, “Fine. Busy and lonely.”

                “How are Maize and Max?”

                “Both good, but they really want to see you.”

                Niall cleared his throat, pulling on his collar. “Your parents?”

                She twiddled her thumbs a moment. “They’re fine.”

                “I’m happy you’re here, little bird,” Niall reached over and squeezed her hand. He crooned along with the radio as they sped down the highway. “When do your friends get here?”

                Delilah smiled as she detected the slightest hint of jealousy. Niall loathed sharing her when he had such little time to spare.  “Tomorrow. You have me all to yourself today.” He kissed the top of her hand. “Perfect.”

                Arriving at the hotel, Niall led Delilah through a back entrance to his suite. It was huge, with two small bedrooms, a living area, and a mini kitchen. Delilah dropped her purse on the couch in slight awe of the room. “Who do you share this room with?”

                Niall grinned. “It’s my birthday present. It’ll just be you and me and your friends.”

                Delilah chuckled. “Don’t worry about them, Niall. They expect us to be together and will understand if we want to be alone.”

                Niall broke her gaze, embarrassed that Delilah could sense his jealousy so easily. He rubbed the back of his head and shuffled his feet. Delilah came up to him. “Don’t be embarrassed.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. She was close enough to smell her perfume. It smelled sweet like cotton candy, but there was something else to it. It smelled homey. He was struck by a desperate longing to go home. Home: no pressure and all the time with Delilah. Everything would be fine.

                Warm hands touched his face. “What are you thinking about?”

                His arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a hug. “Delilah, I…” His mind became preoccupied with her eyes, her nose, her lips. He wanted to–and he would–kiss her. His lips brushed hers and then waited. They’d been down this road before and it’s disintegrated into a purely physical, lusty relationship. He wanted more and wasn’t sure if she did. She seemed fine with the way it was, but maybe he was missing something.

                Delilah kept her eyes focused on his. He was debating something, and she hoped he’d decide soon so he could kiss her again. She did not have to wait much longer. Niall’s lips pressed against hers, greedy and longing. One hand held her lips firmly in place while the other meandered down her back. Her feet left the soft carpet as he lifted her to the bedroom. The soft sheets beneath them her fingers curled into his shirt in an attempt to keep him with her even though she knew he had no reason to leave at the moment. His hand moved up her leg, his thumb rubbing her inner thigh. Delilah moaned into the kiss. He forced his tongue into her mouth. Delilah pulled on his shirt to get it off. From the base of his torso to his shoulders her fingers ran. She received a growl and a hickie in return. Niall’s hands moved under her shirt, easily removing it.

                Heated flesh met heated flesh. A significant bulge was pressed against her leg. Two parts of him were thinking. His brain was telling him to stop; he knew where this path led. His penis was begging to thrust inside of Delilah and make love to her. Niall decided to listen to the latter. His hands moved up her sides and around her back to unhook and remove her bra. His next move was to pull off her shorts. She undid and tugged off his pants. His lips me hers for a moment more before trailing down her throat to her belly button. When his lips came back to hers, Delilah grinded against his hardest part. Niall removed the last barrier of clothing between them.

                Her fingers led another fiery trail up his back. He nibbled and sucked on her neck a second time. She lifted her hips against his and he wasted no more time. He thrust inside of her making her suck in her breath. Her legs wrapped around him as he began to pump. Slowly at first, but picking up speed he thrust in and out of her. She began to pant as she felt the orgasm building inside of her. He came a second before her, but took pleasure in her ragged scream as her body was rocked by the orgasm.

                She lay limp in the sheets as she tried to catch her breath. Niall lay next to her drawing little designs on her skin.

                “I love you, Delilah.”

                “I love you too, Niall.” But whether or not there was any truth behind his words she had no idea.


	9. Megan and Micaela

## Megan and Micaela

                The plane had a bumpy but safe landing. Megan was consumed in making sure her face and hair did not appear like she’d been on a plane for practically an entire day. Micaela put on sunglasses to hide her sleep deprived eyes and pulled her hair into a bun on her head. After the initial nightmare she’d gotten no sleep she could remember. At home she’d watch the clock and suddenly she’d realize it was 6:30 a.m. and she hadn’t seen the time change; half sleep was all she could really depend on for rest.

                “Delilah will understand if you look like hell, Megs. You were on an extremely long flight,” Micaela said as she dragged her bag behind her.

                “But what if the boys are with her?”

                “Think she’d surprise you like that?”

                Megan rolled her eyes. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

                “C’mon. I’m sure she’s waiting for us.” Micaela pulled Megan from the bathroom. “Where did she say she’d be waiting?”

                “By the baggage area.” Megan grabbed Micaela’s arm. “Holy shit.” Micaela followed Megan’s eyes. A blonde head stood out in the crowd. A blonde boy’s head. A blonde girl’s head was bobbing next to his. “Oh my God!” Megan whisper-screamed.

                “Take a deep breath, Megs.”

                “Are you not excited?” Megan asked.

                “Yes. I’m very excited.” Micaela rolled her eyes and checked her nails for dirt.

                “Delilah!” Megan called waving her arm above the crowd.

                “Megan!” She returned. The two girls pushed towards each other, their companions trailing behind. At the same time they screamed. “Oh. My. God!” They’d been texting each other for the past year and a half and they’d skyped, but never had they met in person. They hugged and talked over each other and laughed. Micaela yawned, ignoring Delilah’s companion.

                “Delilah, this is my friend, Micaela.” Delilah smiled at Micaela who managed a tired smile in return.

                “Nice to meet you, Micaela. I’ve heard so much about you.”

                “Same here.”

                “Megan, I know surprises aren’t your favorite thing in the world, but I couldn’t help it.” Delilah pulled her friend into the group. “Megan meet Niall. Niall meet Megan.” Micaela thought Megan was going to faint when Niall started to shake hands and then decided to hug her instead. Micaela stood back and smiled, happy for Megan. Delilah turned to her next. “Niall, this is Micaela.”

                “That’s what I gathered from previous conversations, little bird,” Niall said as he came to greet Micaela. Megan’s friend returned the hug weakly and tried to remain in the background.

                “What’s with the sunglasses?” Delilah teased. “Hangover?”

                “No sleep.” Micaela returned.

                “Let me see these eyes of yours. Megan complains that her eyes are boring blue but that yours are unbelievable.” Delilah tried to take off the sunglasses, but Micaela stepped back saying, “Megan doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Her eyes change color; mine are brown.”

                Delilah put her hands on her hips. “I guess I’ll see them later.”

                The four of them returned to Niall’s car. Megan and Delilah hopped in the backseat leaving Micaela next to Niall in front. Micaela kicked off her flip flops and curled up resting her head on the ledge of the open window as they flew down the highway. Niall kept his eye on her. She seemed so familiar and until he saw her sunglasses-less he couldn’t be sure. He was reminded of a girl they’d known before. He couldn’t help but notice the white scars on her wrist.

                “Have you ever lived in London?” he asked her.

                Micaela was startled at being addressed. Her eyes slid back to Megan who was waiting for her answer to Niall’s question. Micaela cleared her throat before answering, “Yeah.”

                Megan’s mouth dropped open. “You never told me that.”

                “You didn’t tell me about this trip until two days ago so we’re even. Besides, I don’t like talking about it.”

                “Why?” Megan pressed.

                “Bad memories.”

                The subject was dropped and Micaela resumed her position. Her stomach was churning. Megan’s constant shatter was lulling her to sleep. Megan was so excited and her tripping over her words had both Niall and Delilah laughing. Delilah was telling her more details about the next few days. Megan noticed Micaela was nodding off and began to worry about her friend’s nightmares. Micaela was so self-conscience about them; she probably wouldn’t sleep this trip.

                “Hey, Delilah,” Niall said.

                “Yeah?”

                “I’m going to drop you off at the hotel. I have to meet the guys at the area to rehearse.” Delilah’s smile faltered for a moment but she remained her talkative, happy self. Niall dropped time in front and they got out. Micaela lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head. Niall stared for a few moments. It was her. Zayn was never going to believe this.


	10. Danielle and Eleanor

## Danielle and Eleanor

                On the banks of the Thames River, Joseph Marquee started a bridal shop. He’d just wanted to make living dressing girls for their big day; he’d never imagined the success he would have. Joseph was well known in affluent circles locally and internationally. Since she was a little girl, Danielle had wanted to wear one of his dresses when she got married and now she was able to. A little bell jingled as she opened the door. Eleanor followed her in with a gasp. Neither of them had envisioned such a place to be behind Marquee’s doors. It was like stepping into an enchanted forest–complete with real and fake trees. A slim, bald man approached them.

                “You must be Danielle.  I was so excited when I got your call. I’m so happy. I hope I’m invited to the wedding,” he greeted her with a kiss for each cheek.

                “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Marquee. I’ve always dreamed of wearing one of your dresses,” Danielle said.

                “Who is this?” Joseph asked greeting Eleanor the same way he greeted Danielle.

                “My friend Eleanor.”

                “Follow me ladies.”

                They followed him towards the back of the store where he had a whole section waiting for them. An attendant swept Danielle into a dressing room.

                “Let’s try this one,” Joseph said handing in the first gown.  When she was presented to Joe and Eleanor, Eleanor’s eyes grew wide before she burst into a fit of giggles. “You look like a mummy,” she wheezed. Danielle couldn’t help but agree; however, she was afraid of offending Joe. The designer wasted no time in putting Danielle into another dress.

                Danielle stood in front of the mirror as Eleanor circled. Joes stood next to her assessing her reflected image. “It reminds me of Princess Kate,” Danielle commented.

                “Yeah,” Eleanor agreed. “It’s missing that thing.”

                “You’re not glowing,” Joe said. “Let’s try again.” The attendant put Danielle in the third dress and an instant smile appeared. A Grecian style dress, Danielle was in love with it. “Oh, Joe,” she sighed. The attendant announced her dramatically and Danielle stepped out to show Eleanor and Joseph. Her friend clapped her hands and showered Danielle in compliments. “Please tell me you love this dress as much as I do, Danielle.”

                Danielle nodded not sure if she could talk without crying. Now that she had found her dress–and completely fallen in love with it–Danielle checked the price tag. “Is it too much?” Eleanor asked.

                “No. My parents insisted on buying it. They said no more than five thousand.”

                Danielle smoothed the skirt as Joseph put a long veil on her, “Beautiful.”

 

                Danielle left the shop with Eleanor and called Liam. He picked up on the third ring.

                “Hey, baby,” he greeted.

                “Hey, Liam. I have big news.”

                “What?” Liam asked through a yawn.

                “I got my dress!”

                “Really? We haven’t even picked a date.”

                Danielle dropped into the passenger side of Eleanor’s car. “I know, but I wanted to have time to get it altered and perfect for whenever the wedding is.”

                Liam chuckled. “Okay, Dani.”

                “What are you guys up to today?”

                “We’re getting ready for the concert.”

                “Sounds fun.”

                “Yeah, a ton of fun. I gotta go. Love you.”

                “Love you, too,” Danielle put her phone in her purse. “Don’t forget about Boris.”

                “I know. I know,” Eleanor sighed.

                The girls pulled up to Zayn’s apartment building and rode the elevator up seven floors. Eleanor pulled the key from her purse and opened the door. Claws clicked at a furious pace towards them and a wrinkled face come around the corner. The shar-pei lost some of his enthusiasm when he realized it wasn’t Zayn but two girls. Danielle bent down and scratched Boris between the ears making his back leg kick and his body slide backwards on the wood floor. Eleanor filled the food and water bowls and found the leash. “Want to go for a walk, Boris?” she asked.

                The dog didn’t need to be asked twice. He was bouncing by her feet making it difficult for Eleanor to put the leash on. The trio took the stairs and walked around the block. Boris smelled every single lamppost and barked at every bird. Returning to the apartment Boris waited by the cabinet patiently for a dog treat, but as the girls locked the door he began to howl.

                “We should really stay here when they’re gone. Hearing him cry like that is heartbreaking,” Eleanor said.


	11. Megan

## Megan

                Megan insisted on doing Micaela’s makeup so that her friend would seem like she somewhat cared about her appearance. Delilah was texting Niall in the living room.

                “Megan don’t worry about me,” Micaela said for the umpteenth time. “I can get ready by myself.”

                “Stop fidgeting. I if let you get ready by yourself, you’ll procrastinate until it’s too late and you’ll miss the concert.” Megan made Micaela look up so she could put mascara on. Megan had been ready for thirty minutes now and there was still another hour to wait.

                “That would be better anyway. I’m not going to be any fun this trip.”

                Megan pulled her off the chair and into the mirror, careful to avoid looking at her own reflection. Micaela smiled for a moment then stepped away from the glass. “Look at yourself.”

                Megan stared into the glass and wished she hadn’t. Darren was right; she did have a boney ass, but if she tried to fix it all the fat went to her legs. Her legs were stuffed like sardines in the purple dress she was wearing. Pulling at the fabric, Megan considered changing. Her breasts were too small. She still had the business card that Darren had given her for a boob job. Maybe she could get one when they get one when they got back from Australia. Her eyes looked at her suitcase reflected in the mirror.

                “You look wonderful,” Micaela said.

                “What?”

                “You look beautiful. Harry’ll love you.”

                “How could you possibly know that?”

                Micaela smiled. “I have my sources.”

 

                The stage went completely dark and a hush fell before a tidal wave of girl scream crashed over it.

                “I’ve tried playing it cool…”

                “But when I’m lookin’ at you…”

                “I can’t ever be bra-ve…”

                Megan hugged Delilah and Micaela in her excitement. “I can’t believe we’re here!”

                Megan knew the words to every song and forced a laugh and a smile from Micaela by dancing terribly Delilah filled Megan n on what happened the day before. It was the first time in a few hours Megan forgot how awful she looked and enjoyed herself.

                Megan whispered to Delilah who nodded with a smile. Megan grinned and hopped up and down. She tried to breathe but it was a difficult task when she was so excited. Micaela rose from her seat and stretched with a subsequent yawn. “Can we go back to the hotel now?”

                Her companions stared at her. “We haven’t even seen the best part.” Delilah said.

                Micaela looked at the stage. “The concert is over.”

                Megan rolled her eyes. “Tonight is not just a concert.” She grabbed her friend’s hand and tugged her along as Megan followed Delilah. The three girls dodged equipment and people as Delilah let them on. Micaela’s eyes grew wide when she realized what Delilah and Megan were doing.

                “I can’t do this.” Micaela froze.

                Megan looked back at her. “What do you mean you ‘can’t do this’?”

                “You go on ahead. I’ll wait in the car.”

                “You’re not missing out on a once in a lifetime thing. You’re coming with me.”

                “I love their music, Megs, but–” Micaela was scared to finish her sentence.

                “But what?” Megan was growing impatient.

                “I hate _them_.”

                Megan sighed. “Of course you do. Come with me for moral support.”

                “That’s what Delilah is for.”

                Delilah chose to intervene. “You can’t hate them; you haven’t even met them. How do you even know that we’re going to meet them?”

                “We’re certainly not heading back to the car.”

                Megan yanked Micaela back into motion. Micaela was acting so weird. Who would give up a chance to hang with five amazing British boys–well, one was Irish but that wasn’t a deal breaker– who happen to be extremely famous? Girls would become mass murders to be in their shoes at the moment. They stopped a few feet away from the door.

                Delilah turned to Megan. “Are you ready?”

                Megan managed to nod, but a flood of insecurities was overwhelming her. She began to fidget wither dress, run her fingers nervously through her hair, wishing there was a mirror somewhere. Micaela stepped in. She forced Megan to leave her hands by her side. Micaela straightened Megan’s dress, fixed her hair, and gave her a little lip gloss.

                “Don’t be nervous. I’m sure they’ll be nice to you,” Micaela said quietly.

                What was she talking about? Of course the boys would be nice to her and they’d be nice to her and they’d be nice to Micaela. When they got back to the hotel Megan would force Micaela to tell her everything she hadn’t told her already. She hoped that wasn’t a lot, but she wasn’t so sure anymore.

                “Go ahead and get our jitters out,” Micaela advised. “We can’t have you scaring anyone.”

                Megan jumped in a little circle grinning. Delilah smiled along with Micaela. Their friend had never been so excited.

                “Did you give her decaf this morning?” Delilah whispered.

                “Megan doesn’t drink coffee,” Micaela returned.

                Delilah and Megan stepped up to the door while Micaela held back; she didn’t want to cross the threshold. Delilah turned the knob.

                “C’mon, Mickey-D.” Megan yanked her forward.


	12. Harry

## Harry

                “Louis! Don’t forget to call Eleanor!” Harry shouted. “Niall, where’s Delilah and her friends?”

                Niall looked up from his phone. “Should be here soon.”

                “It’s the girl from the photo, right mate?”

                Niall rolled his eyes. “Yes, Harry.”

                Harry nodded throwing a foam ball up and down. “Zayn, snap out of it.” He hit Zayn in the head with the ball. “You’ve been moody since Louis’ dinner. What’s up?” Zayn threw the ball back with, “Thinking about an old friend.”

                “An old _girlfriend_?” Harry teased.

                “Oh, shut–” They fell silent as the door opened. Delilah came first, her friend second, and then…

                The room went from anxious-to-meet to tense-from-seeing. Five pairs of eyes fell on the third girl to enter the room. She stared back clearly unhappy to be there. Delilah and her other friend looked between the two groups.

                The third girl was the first to speak. A small smile crossed her lips. “Let me see. I’m terrible with names. I hope I get them right.” Pointing to each boy, she named them, “You’re Niall, Liam, Louis, Harry, and Zayn. Am I right, Megs?”

                “Megs” nodded. “Yeah, you got them right.” Delilah tried to move through the awkwardness that seemed to be quickly filling the room. “Well, Micaela introduced you all, and this is Megan.”

                The boys greeted them. Delilah sat on the couch pulling Megan with her. Harry scooted over to make room. Micaela stood by the door unsure of where to go until Niall went to talk to her. Harry put his arm around Megan enjoying the blush that bloomed in her cheeks.

                “Your picture didn’t do you justice.”

                Megan sent her eyes to her lap. “Thanks. It was a terrible picture.” Her fingers twisted around each other in her lap. Delilah left the couch to see what Liam was doing.

                “When did you guys get here?” Harry asked.

                “Micaela and I landed this morning.”

                Some hair had fallen in her face, hiding it from Harry. He tucked it behind her ear so he could see her face clearly. He flashed his grin at her to get a blush and a smile I n return. “Where did you guys fly from?”

                “Chicago. We have an apartment together that the family Micaela works for pays for.”

                Harry glanced at Micaela, who was sitting by herself. “That’s nice of them,” Harry said.

                “Yeah, well, that’s about the only good thing about them. The kids she looks after are brats, and they take complete advantage of her.  The parents are there most of the time so she can’t discipline any of them.” Megan stopped talking suddenly as a blush crept into her cheeks. “I’m talking too much.”

                Harry laughed which caused Megan to laugh which led to the entire group laughing. (Micaela did let out a quiet giggle.) Megan tried to stop by holding her sides and wheezing and trying to take a deep breath. It wasn’t working very well now, but eventually everyone was able to calm down enough to breathe.

                “What was so funny?” Liam asked.

                “No clue,” Zayn said.

                Harry smiled at Megan as if they had some inside joke between them. Nobody had any actual idea what had been so funny. Harry ran his hand through his hair. He could feel a pair of eyes on him and he had a good idea of whose they were.

                “What do you do, Megan?”

                Megan pushed her hair back. “Well, I am finishing up a business degree. I want to live in London.”

                “What do you plan on doing in London?”

                Megan shrugged. “Haven’t decided yet. I’ll figure something out before I come over. Well, I mean come over to London, not to your place because that would be really weird if I just showed up…I should stop talking again.” She dropped her eyes to her lap. “Um, where’s the restroom?”

                Harry hopped off the couch. “I’ll show you.”

                “Okay.” Megan said finding it a little weird a guy would show her where the women’s restroom was, but then again Micaela and Delilah probably wouldn’t know. Harry took her hand–Megan thought she would faint–so he wouldn’t lose her in the twists and turns of backstage. Reluctantly, he let her go inside.

                Megan closed the door stumbling to the counter. She braced herself and tried to catch her breath. Harry Styles was outside the door, waiting for her. Harry Styles had touched her hand. Where was she? There was a mirror, a sink, a soap dispenser–she was in the bathroom.

                Harry leaned against the wall outside the bathroom. He really liked Megan; really, really liked her. A person passed him with a quizzical look, but he let it go. It was odd seeing one of the boys alone, but he technically wasn’t alone. She was just in the bathroom A bathroom was a good place to be alone. Making sure the hall was clear he slipped into the bathroom. Louis’ words floated through his mind. He wasn’t looking at Megan purely for sex–that might come later–but for now he just wanted to be with her every moment he could.

                Megan was just finishing washing her hands. She looked up as the door closed. “What are you doing in here?”

                “Being alone with you.”

                The thrill of fear and excitement zipped through her. He stepped closer.  “I know it’s odd, but we’re alone here and no one should interrupt.”

                “What could they possibly interrupt?” Megan’s hands gripped the counter as Harry moved in. His eyes searched her blushing face before gently kissing her. Megan took a moment to recover from the shock of being kissed before she relaxed into it. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers curling into his hair. He lifted her onto the counter not letting his lips leave hers. A hand started up her leg from her knee and stopped just before her hip. His thumb began to rub circles into her inner thigh. He bit her bottom lip asking her to open up to him. She willingly obliged. Her legs wrapped around him to pull herself closer to him. Harry brought his hands from her legs so they could feel up her sides. She had to pull back for air. Harry’s lips trailed down her neck with infuriating nips. As his tongue dipped into the hollow at the base of her neck, Megan let a moan slip from between her lips. Harry smiled against her skin.

Her hands wiggled under his shirt and felt the smooth, hard muscles beneath. From her sides his hands moved to the back of her dress where her zipper was and pulled it open. His lips came back to hers as her dress hung open from her waist. He pulled her closer to him at the same time he pushed her skirt up. Megan’s breath caught as she felt his body pressed against hers. Harry’s hands moved to her breasts. He left her bra on, but rubbed what was exposed. Megan’s fingers tightened their grip in his hair as he did so. Harry’s lips returned to hers a short moment before he nibbled on her ear. Megan brought his lips back to hers longing to taste him again.

Harry rested his forehead against hers as he tried to catch his breath. “We’re going to have to go back eventually.” His thumb kept moving along the edge of her bra.

Someone knock on the door, calling, “Megan?” 


	13. Louis

## Louis

                Louis replaced Harry on the couch. He pulled out his phone so he could call Eleanor. Before him was an example of what could happen if someone didn’t call. It was an extreme and unlikely example, but it was obviously possible.

                “Hello?”

                Louis settled into the couch. “Hey, beautiful.”

                Eleanor closed her front door behind her. “Hey, honey.”

                “What have you been up to today?”

                “We bought Dani’s dress and gave Boris a walk. I’m thinking about bringing him home. I hate leaving him.”

                “You’ll have to sneak him in. Pet’s aren’t allowed in your apartment.”

                Eleanor got a granola bar form a kitchen cabinet. “I know. That would be the difficult part. He’s so bouncy.”

                Louis tossed the ball to Zayn. “We’ll work something out,” Louis said. He missed Eleanor terribly. He wanted to hold her and kiss her and whisper ‘I love you’ in her ear. Saying it over the phone would have to do. “I love you, Ellie.”

                “I love you too, Lou. See you soon?”

                “Yes. I’ll see you soon.”

                Louis put his phone back in his pocket. Micaela took a far sat from him on the couch. Though she tried to hide it, Louis saw her glance at Zayn, eyes full of hurt. Zayn should at least talk to someone–especially her–to lessen the tension in the room.

                “So what do you do for this family you work for, Micaela?” Louis asked.

                “I’m a nanny and a maid.”

                “Do you like the kids or are they really as bad as Megan says?”

                Micaela smiled. “Sort of. They’re not as bad as Megan made them seem. I suppose  I complain too much on the bad days.” She glanced at the door. “How long does it take to go to the bathroom?”

                Liam spoke up. “He’s probably giving her the _grand tour_.”

                Louis, Niall, and Zayn chuckled. Delilah smiled, “Don’t worry about her, Micaela.” Micaela got up from the couch and headed for the door. “Megan’s not going to get involved with that prick,” she muttered under her breath.

                Louis heard her comment, but let it slide. She and Megan must be close, and Micaela was trying to protect her friend. Delilah had heard her as well and wasn’t going to let it go without an apology.

                “I’m sorry, guys. She’s not exactly ecstatic to be here.”

                “We’d have to be blind to miss that,” Zayn said talking for the first time tonight.

                “I just don’t understand why, though,” Delilah went on. “Megan said she listens to you guys all the time.”

                “Maybe she’s having a bad day,” Niall suggested.

                “Maybe you don’t know the whole story,” Liam said.

                “What would I be missing?” Delilah asked.

                “It’s probably a bad day today,” Zayn said. He rose from the floor and left the room.

                “What is up with him?” Delilah asked turning to the others.

                “He’s having a bad day too,” Niall said. 


	14. Megan and Micaela

## Megan and Micaela

                Megan preceded Micaela to their bedroom. “You didn’t need to come barging in like that,” Megan said.

                “Yes, I did.”

                “We weren’t doing anything wrong.”

                Micaela rolled her eyes. “Making out in a bathroom with a guy you just met is the completely right thing to do.”

                “It wasn’t just some guy, it was Harry Styles!” Megan flopped onto her bed with a dreamy sigh.

                “He probably would have fucked you if I hadn’t intervened.”

                “Harry wouldn’t do that!”

                “Don’t be romantic. He had you half naked in a bathroom what else would he do?”

                Megan chewed her bottom lip. She knew Harry had a bit of a reputation, but surely it wasn’t as bad as everyone made it seem. He could be a gentleman. Maybe he just needed to find that special girl. Maybe she could be that special girl. Micaela was changing into her pajamas. Her behavior backstage was still unexplained. Megan thought she would be beside herself, grinning like an idiot and jumping up and down. Micaela’s dislike of the boys was confusing. “What was up with you tonight?”

                Micaela paused. “What do you mean?”

                “You acted really strange when we met them.”

                “I told you I hate them. Their songs are fine.”

                “Why do you hate them?”

                “Don’t worry about it, Megs. It’s complicated.”

                “Tell me! Friends tell each other _everything_!” Megan pouted. She knew she was pressing her luck, but she had to know what was wrong with the boys. Micaela did tell her a lot–though Megan felt she was missing a few things–and she should respect her friend’s privacy, but this secret had something about it that made it irresistible; Megan was irritated that Micaela wouldn’t tell her. “Tell me, Micaela. Please?”

                “No.” Micaela opened _The Outsiders_ , her favorite book.

                “You’ve read that book a thousand and one times. Now it’s time to talk.” Megan wrestled the book from Micaela.

                “What do want to talk about?” Micaela huffed.

                “Tell me why you hate the boys so much.”

                Micaela folded her arms and turned her head away from Megan. Her entire body trembled slightly as she combated anger and tears. Megan’s curiosity dulled slightly; her goal was the secret not to upset Micaela.

                Delilah popped her head in. “Want to have a movie night?”

                “Aren’t you exhausted?” Megan asked.

                “Kinda, but the boys are still worked up from the concert and want to have a movie night. We’ll all pass out twenty minutes in, but the time leading up to that will be fun.”

                Megan glanced at Micaela. “Go,” her friend said. Megan self consciously looked at the mirror. Her pajamas were not the most attractive things. “Harry Styles kissed you, Megs. He won’t care.”

                “I was wearing that purple dress though. I looked nice.”

                “You look nice, now. Go watch a small part of a movie.”

                “I can’t. Not like this.”

                Micaela got off the bed to rummage through her suitcase. She pulled out her favorite p.js from Victoria’s Secret. “Borrow these.” Megan hugged her friend and ran to change in the bathroom.

                “Are you going to come?” Delilah asked.

                Micaela smiled sadly. “No. I’m not ruining the entire night.” She started brushing her hair while singing _Moments_ softly to herself. Delilah felt like she was intruding on Micaela’s own little world, but she was transfixed by Micaela’s choice of bookmark. Megan emerged from the bathroom feeling much more attractive.

                “Have fun,” Micaela sighed.

                “Ready, Delilah?” Megan joined Delilah by the bed. Delilah pointed to Micaela’s bookmark. It was half a picture of a by smiling at someone out of the picture. His arm was looped around someone else’s.

                “Aren’t you guys going?” Micaela’s voice had lost its dreamlike tone and taken on steely anger. She took the half picture from Delilah, placing it in her book. “Have fun you two.”               

                “Come with us, Micaela,” Delilah said. “You’ll have a lot more fun over there than here.”

                Micaela crossed her arms over her chest. She was being a fun-sucker and she knew it. Her anger was getting in the way of everything. Take a deep breath, she ordered herself. She was in Australia with Megan and one of the biggest boy bands in the world. Girls would kill for this chance. It could be fun if she went.

                “Go ahead. I’ll meet you over there.”

                “Pinky promise?” Megan held up her little finger so Micaela could wrap her pinky around it. “Pinky promise,” Micaela said with a smile.

                Megan and Delilah scurried to Liam’s room where movie night would be leaving Micaela digging through her suitcase. What should she wear? Should she try to make him want her again or should she continue with the whole we’ve-never-met thing? She picked out a pair of short black silk shorts–another Victoria’s Secret purchase–and a gray t-shirt. She’d forgotten she’d packed it. She’d brought it to ward off nightmares. He’d left it at her house and refused to take it back. She chuckled at herself in the mirror. The shirt was still a little big and it looked like she wasn’t wearing pants. She ran a brush through her hair so she could pull it into a bun onto eh top of her head. She looked presentable at least.

                She would not let him ruin the entire trip; she was a big girl. Megan would definitely want to talk tomorrow. After a movie night–if it was going to be anything like she remembered–it would be impossible to continue the whole we’ve-never-met thing.


	15. Zayn

## Zayn

                Megan and Delilah arrived chattering and laughing. Harry was quick to claim Megan a seat next to him. Delilah sat at Niall’s feet. Zayn watched them from his seat considering what he would do if she showed up and if she didn’t.

                Liam asked, “Is Micaela coming?”

                “Yep. She had to get ready,” Megan chirped. Her eyes flitted Zayn’s way. As she said this someone–it could only be one person–knocked on the door.

                “I got it,” Zayn said. She was on the other side in his shirt. “Hey,” he said quietly.

                Lots of emotions sprinted through her face as she replied with a just as quiet, “Hi.”

                “Zayn let the poor girl in!” Louis shouted.

                Zayn stepped back so she could come in. He distinctly remembered pulling that shirt off of her one night with his teeth. Micaela settled next to Liam. “What movie are we watching?” she asked.

                “We were thinking we’d let you pick,” Liam said. “We’d like to give you a belated birthday present.”

                Micaela smiled. “I never am good at making decisions.” It was a pay-per-view selection so Micaela took the remote and started flipping through her choices. Her face lit up as she stopped on _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1._ “Yes!”

                “How many times have you seen this one?” Harry asked. (Megan found his teasing question a bit odd, especially the ‘this one’ implication.)

                Micaela shrugged. “I’ve lost count.”

                Zayn smiled; it felt like they had gotten their old friend back. Niall noticed his change of expression. “Finally someone broke Zayn out of his mood.”

                Her eyes focused on him; there was mischief in them. “You know what we should do?” he said. “Dare or Dare.” Megan and Delilah were puzzled, but Micaela knew exactly what he was talking about.

                “Just like the good ole days,” Harry said pulling his phone out.

                “What’s Dare or Dare?” Megan asked him.

                “Truth or Dare without the truth part.”

                Delilah spoke up. “We don’t get a choice?”

                Micaela grabbed Harry’s phone. “This is not a democracy. Choices are for losers.” Micaela searched for the app she needed. “Dirty or clean, boys?”

                “I thought choices were for losers,” Niall teased.

                “Dirty it is then.” Micaela murmured.

                “Should I be nervous?” Megan asked.

                Harry kissed her cheek. “Very.”

                Micaela’s finger hovered over the phone as the movies monetarily distracted her.

                Liam got up for a drink. “Anyone want anything?”

                “What do we have?” Louis asked.

                “Anything to eat?” Niall asked.

                “You eat so much,” Delilah teased. Niall leaned down and kissed her. “I’m always hungry.”

                Liam returned with a drink for him and Louis and food for Niall. Micaela was next to speak, “Everyone ready?”

                “Are there any rules to this game?” Megan asked.

                Louis answered, “Not really. If it’s something really outrageous you can pass, but otherwise you have to do whatever it tells you to.”

                “First up: Harry and Megan.” Micaela read the dare, “Harry remove Megan’s pants using only your teeth.

                Harry grinned. He pulled Megan to her feet and knelt before her. His hands held her sides. She stared at the ceiling as she felt her bottoms slide down her legs. Harry stood with her shorts in his mouth, eyes laughing.

                “You’re getting too good at that one,” Zayn chuckled. The others joined in his laughter as Harry handed Megan’s pants to her.

                Micaela read the next activity, “Zayn and Liam. Liam lick Zayn’s belly button.” There was an overtone of glee in her voice. Both boys rolled their eyes but completed the task.

                “Louis and Micaela. Micaela talk dirty to Louis.” She handed the phone to Harry. Throwing her leg over Louis’ lap, she settled into her position. Zayn couldn’t help but feel jealous. Micaela began to talk. “Hey, handsome. I saw your show tonight and it was sooo good. The red pants looked so sexy, but a little tight. Do you have to squeeze into them? I bet you do and I know they don’t mind. I’d love for you to squeeze into me.”

                Eight people burst into laughter. Harry, the first one to be able to speak again, read the next dare. “Niall and Delilah. Niall lay Delilah on the floor and give her a back massage. P.S. You’re naked.”

                “Now not all of us want to see all that,” Louis teased. “Boxers are fine.”

                Delilah stretched out on the floor as Niall stripped down to his underwear. Straddling Delilah he proceeded with the back rub. “Niall that feels so good.”

                “Megan and Micaela,” Micaela said. “Megan give Micaela a strip tease.” Megan was blushing. Micaela grinned at her friend.

 

                “The dares are starting to repeat,” Micaela murmured.

                “What do we do now?” Delilah asked.

                Louis smiled. “Truths; no passing allowed.”

                Megan clutched Harry’s hand; dares she could handle, but truths were…well they’re the truth. Hopefully nothing too intimate would have to be revealed. She and Zayn both looked at Micaela. Megan was shocked by her ease with the boys; Zayn was nervous she would reveal too much and bring old feelings, tensions, etc. to light. He wasn’t looking to argue in front of everyone if their tempers made them defensive. He had enjoyed the dares; truths he was fine with, except the ones Micaela might say.

                “First up,” yawn, “Delilah.” Micaela rubbed her sleepy eyes. “What’s your favorite type of pro-otection?” She yawned on the _O_.

                “The pill,” Delilah supplied. “Other things are too…limiting.”

                Megan’s already existing butterflies tripled–maybe even quadrupled–if that was the type of truths they’d be revealing. Then again it was dirty.

                Micaela smiled slowly opening and closing her eyes. “Group Truth: When and where did you lose your virginity? I’ll go first.” Micaela grinned. “I was sixteen and I…” Her eyes closed, her mouth frowned, and she sighed heavily. “I was at this place.” Everyone sensed a creeping tension in the air and was happy when she said, “You’re next Louis.”

                “Seventeen; my place. Delilah?”

                She yawned. “Sixteen; Niall’s place.” She grinned up at Niall. “You?”

                “Seventeen; my place. Liam?”

                Liam dragged his hands down his face. “Eighteen; hotel in California. Zayn?”

                “Eighteen; my apartment.” He cleared his throat. “Megan?”

                Her eyes grew wide as she pulled her hand from Harry’s. So many eyes awaited her answer. She could lie. She could always lie; but there was the voice crack to worry about and the fact she’d already confided in Micaela who could call her out on it, but probably wouldn’t, would she? Then there was the problem of where she wanted to lose her virginity and how old she’d been. She wished she could pass, but rules were rules. “Megs, say something,” Micaela groaned.

                “I…I’m…I’m a virgin,” she whispered. “Harry?”

                Zayn was jolted by the reminder of another voice saying the same thing in the same whisper of fear and embarrassment, another voice whispering all her secrets to him.

                Before answering, Harry murmured in Megan’s ear, “There’s nothing wrong with that.” To the group he said, “Sixteen; the basement at my house.”

 

                She was at his feet, curled in a blanket from one of the beds. Her hair was a lot longer than the last time he’d seen her. Thick, wavy, something he could lock his hand in. He couldn’t think about that now, though; her forehead was beginning to crease–a warning. He reached down from the chair for the hand closest to him. He wrapped his fingers around her sleeping ones. To his surprise, her fingers closed around his. Zayn could’ve sworn he heard her mumbled ‘There you are’, but the touch of her skin may have had him hearing things.


	16. Megan, Micaela, and Delilah

## Megan, Micaela, and Delilah

                Micaela was the first to wake up, but she kept her eyes closed. If she couldn’t see anything then she was back at Aunt Millie’s in her bed with him after another good night’s sleep. Hopefully he’d wake her up with a kiss or a touch and they’d spend the day with each other happy and carefree. Her mind had already deluded her hand into feeling his there, so why couldn’t the rest be true too? Someone else was up. Micaela opened one eye.

                Megan was stirring n Harry’s arms. The two of them had claimed the couch last night after the truths had run out and everyone was half asleep anyway. Megan caught Micaela’s eye and Micaela’s hand in Zayn’s. Had she missed something last night? Before her eyes, Micaela blushed and extricated her hand from Zayn’s. She untangled herself from the blanket and headed for the door.

                Megan slowly got up from the couch, careful to not disturb Harry. She followed Micaela down the hall to their room. “Any you were holding his hand why?”

                “Give me just a minute.” Micaela ignored her question. She changed not more gym-appropriate clothes.

                “You’re not going to the gym until I get some answers. First you can start with why you were holding Zayn’s hand. Then you can explain why the hell you were so relaxed with Dare or Dare around the boys.” Megan backed up as Micaela walked forward. “Oh! And you can tell me all about when you lived in London, which I’m starting to think has something to do with last night.”

                “Come to the gym with me and I’ll explain everything.”

                “Micaela, stop being–wait, you’ll tell me?”

                Micaela nodded.

                “What made you change your mind?”

                Micaela shrugged and rubbed her arms. “You looked at me funny last night and then I  actually slept well and you deserve an explanation.”

                Megan pursed her lips as she eyed her friend. “So you turn from angry and closed off to calm and open because of a good night’s sleep and a funny look?”

                “Isn’t that what I just said?”

                Megan shook her head. “You’re insane, but wait for me so I can get ready.”

                Megan disappeared just before Delilah came in. She looked distracted and confused. “What’s up?” Micaela asked.

                “Oh, hey. Nothing. I was just looking for a place to think.”

                “If you want to talk about it, come to the gym with us. Megan and I have some things to talk about–well, I have a lot of talking to do and she’ll be listening, but you can come too. We’ll talk about everything.”

                Megan emerged ready to work out. “Hey D! You wanna come with us?”

                “Yeah, sure.”

                The trio went to the elevators and found their way to the gym. Micaela started at a moderate walk on a treadmill between Megan and Delilah. “So what do you want me to start with?”

                “Start at the beginning preferably,” Megan teased.

                Micaela closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. “I went to live with my Aunt Millie in London. She’s a great person most of the time. She always had different colored hair. My favorite was when it was purple. The color always depended on what guy she was seeing. Anyway…” Micaela smiled to herself, and action that was gradually becoming difficult. “He lived next door.”

                “Who lived next door?” Megan asked.

                Micaela didn’t look at her when she replied, “Zayn. He was living next door.”

                Delilah, distracted from her worries, asked, “Was he the only one you knew before?”

                Micaela cleared her throat. “Experience has taught me some things, and Megan, you may want to stop your treadmill before I go on.”

                “Why?”

                “I don’t want you to physically harm yourself.”

                “Just tell me.” Megan rolled her eyes.

                “I knew all of them.”

                Megan gripped the treadmill and focused on keeping her feet beneath her. “Pardon?” How could her friend let a little detail like that to herself?  
                “Living at Aunt Millie’s was hard, but better than…better than my other option. She travelled a lot and I’d get lonely. Zayn was next door and then we’d get together and hang out. Then I met the others. We got to know each other and then…” Micaela watched her feet walk beneath her. “He went on X-Factor and I never heard from him again.”

                Megan could sense her friend closing in on herself again. She knew that if she was to get any more information, she’d have to wait for Micaela to offer it by herself. Asking Micaela anything now could shut her down and provoke her anger. Delilah was brave enough to press Micaela for more. (Megan sent up a silent prayer for Delilah’s safety). “But it was good he went and I know Niall was busy on the show, so he called when he could. You and Zayn were friends. I’m sure he thought you’d understand.”

                Micaela laughed as she blinked back tears. “At least Niall called you and you can’t possibly say Zayn and I were just friends; we were…” Micaela took a shuddering breath. “We were so close. They all knew that, too, and still he didn’t call…” Micaela trailed off into silence.

                “What do you mean you weren’t just friends?” Delilah asked. Megan stared at her. “Oh my God, D! It’s obvious! She fell for him.”

                Micaela’s bitterness colored her voice. “Yeah, I fell for him. I fell for that son of a bitch with every fiber of my being. I told him everything; my mom, the crap my dad pulled, my feelings. I thought he listened to me. I though…well, I thought a lot of things, but it was all wrong; it was all wrong!” Micaela got off the treadmill for the punching bags. She put on gloves and started punching. “I trusted him! I trusted the hell out of him!” She swung at the bag faster and faster. “I told him about my dad beating the shit out  of me every night. I told him how my mom died when I was two. I told him about every damn thing!” Micaela stopped, her fingers digging into the tough bag. Her breaths came in ragged. “I told that bastard everything and he just left! Why did he leave me? He didn’t even say goodbye; he just abandoned me. I gave him every last part of me and he left me with nothing, not even goodbye. How could he do that? Why didn’t he just call me?”

                She looked at the door where Harry, Louis, and Liam stood clustered together. “They let him, too!” she howled. Micaela ran, pushing past the three of them. Louis looked at Megan and Delilah. “What did we miss?”

                Megan and Delilah stared after her, digesting the information and unsure of their next move. Micaela had been living with her for a year and a half and she’d kept all that inside. Megan wouldn’t have suggested she come if she’d known…but it was too late to have regrets. Micaela seemed to have been able to push past the past last night and enjoy herself; if she held Zayn’s hand then she wasn’t over him yet. The nightmares were left still unexplained, but Megan figured they must have something to do with her dad. Perhaps Micaela would talk later, but she would try that later. Megan shook her head and turned to Delilah. “What did you want to talk about?”

                Delilah was worried about Micaela’s safety after an outburst like that. Megan looked as shocked as she did. Neither of them had expected something like that. Zayn left without saying goodbye…how could he do that? Beneath the anger was a confused, heartbroken girl who felt like she’d lost the only person who had seemed to care about her. Hot anger and frustration towards Zayn bubbled inside of Delilah. “Aren’t you going to see if she’s okay?”

                “No. I might not come back alive if I do.”

                “What was it you wanted to talk about?” Megan asked.

                Delilah eyed Harry, Louis, and Liam. “Not in front of them.”

                Megan glanced their way. “They aren’t paying attention.” But Megan could sense Delilah’s discomfort and she felt odd working out in front of Harry. “Let’s go back to the room.”

                “No!” Delilah said loudly drawing the attention of the three boys. “Let’s go outside.” Megan followed her out to a patio area. “It’s about Niall. I’m so confused.”

                Megan crinkled her nose. “Confused? About what?”

                “He’s gone a lot and we’re not spending as much time together and he’s blocking everything from moving on. Then there’s the whole feelings problem. Sometimes I think that he loves me like I love him, but then it disappears. He says he loves me, but I just don’t know if he means it because I feel like whenever we get together it’s always physical…What if it all blows up again? We tried to get together before but jealousy and miscommunication got in the way. If that happens again, I can’t move in with him.” Delilah slouched in her chair. “There’s this other guy I’ve been hanging out with. His name is Nolan. He’s nice and everything–super sweet–but I don’t know how I feel about him. He asked me out before and I told him I’d think about it. I never actually gave him an answer. I see him a lot more than I see Niall, and it’d be easier to be with Nolan than Niall because Nolan’s around more, but…” Her words ran out as she ran into the same wall she’d been running into since Nolan asked her out.

                Megan smiled as if she knew something Delilah didn’t. “I choose Niall.”

                Delilah rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.”

                “Well I have to. He’s the hero of this movie. You’re like a chick flick. Nolan’s just some creep that Niall has to destroy so you two can be together forever.”

                “I don’t know if Niall wants to be together forever; that’s the problem. I think he does but nothing’s for sure.”

                “Then why are you sitting here talking to me? You should be talking to Niall.”


	17. Niall and Delilah

## Niall and Delilah

                Niall hung up the phone, slipping it back into his pocket before he commenced pacing. There was no way what he’d just been told was true; it couldn’t possibly be. Delilah wasn’t…she wouldn’t…she could be. Who’s to say that she wasn’t cheating on…Niall stopped. If the rumors were true then he was being used. Delilah couldn’t be trusted. Niall grimaced. His best friend was lying to him.

                The door slammed, disturbing his thoughts. Micaela leaned against it obviously unaware of his presence because she was crying. Hard. In all of the time he’d known her, Micaela had never cried in front of him. He was undecided on what the appropriate action was consequently. If she was anyone else he’d be holding and comforting her, but Micaela was…sensitive. Zayn had told them it’d taken a long time before he’d been able to give her a high-five. Zayn had blamed her father.

                Micaela sniffled and looked up. “Oh. Hey, Niall.”

                “Hey, Micaela. Everything okay?”

                Her eyes narrowed. “A crying girl typically isn’t okay. You shouldn’t ask stupid questions.”

                Niall ignored her bitterness. “Is there anything I could do?”

                Micaela laughed at him. “What could you possibly do?”

                Niall crossed his arms. “I could hold you until you stopped crying. Sit here and listen to what’s bothering you. I could tell you everything would be okay. I _could_ do a lot of things.”

                “You _should_ have done something a long time ago.” Micaela didn’t care if she insulted him; her anger was back full-fledge. She could feel the tears coming.

                Niall grimaced. Neither of them were having a successful love life, but at least his anger wasn’t misdirected. “It’s not my fault, Micaela. I didn’t do anything.”

                “That’s the problem. You didn’t do _anything_. How hard is it to tell someone to call their girlfriend?”

                “If Zayn wanted to call you he would have. He’s quite capable of managing his own life.” Niall regretted his words, but she needed sense knocked into her. He watched her physically deflate, relying on the door for support.

                “You called Delilah. Why didn’t Zayn call me?” Micaela caught the dark look that crossed Niall’s face at the mention of her friend. “What’s wrong?”

                “Delilah is dating someone else.”

                “What?”

                “She’s dating this kid named Nolan. I don’t get it. She said she was lonely, but I never thought she’d go that far. I deluded myself that she might feel the same way about me as I did about her.”

                “Did you tell her how you feel?”

                “I thought it was obvious.”

                Micaela stumbled forward as the door opened behind her. “Oh, sorry.” It was Delilah. Micaela left the two of them alone. “Hey, Niall.”

                “Hey,” he grunted.

                “What’s wrong?” She tried to place a hand on his arm, but he jerked away.

                “Nothing.” She didn’t need to know he knew; not now at least.

                “Niall,” Delilah sighed, “something’s obviously wrong.”

                “We’ll talk about it later,” Niall mumbled. “Harry is waiting downstairs. We have to go work on our music.”

                “Oh, okay.” Delilah stepped to the side as he walked out. Trying to talk to him about things was like pulling teeth from a squirmy five year old. Niall also liked to brood and let things fester, like an oyster and a grain of sand, except a pearl wasn’t always the product. What his problem was now was beyond her. She hoped he’d be able to get over it so they could talk later.

                Delilah walked into her bedroom and began absentmindedly folding clothes. Her phone vibrated.

 **Nolan:** Hey :]    

 **Delilah:** Hi, Nolan.

 **Nolan:** When are you coming home?

 **Delilah:** IDK In a little while.

 **Nolan:** When you get back want to get dinner?

 **Delilah:** Maybe.

Dinner implied a date and that was the last thing on her mind.

 **Nolan:** Is Niall there?

 **Delilah:** No. He’s working.

 **Nolan:** What are you doing now?

 **Delilah:** Straightening up the room.

 **Nolan:** Isn’t that what maids are for?

 **Delilah:** They don’t mess with your clothes.

                Wasn’t there something else they could talk about? Delilah was bored already. How could she talk to Niall like this for hours and can barely last five minutes with Nolan? A strand of hair fell in her face. She tried to blow it out of the way, but she ended up forcing it back with her hand.

               

                Niall’s voice fell flat for the third time in five minutes. He kicked at the air as he tried to work through his frustration.

                “What’s up, mate?” Liam asked.

                “Delilah’s dating this other guy,” Niall grumbled.

                Everyone was quiet, watching him, not sure what to say. They all knew that Niall and Delilah loved each other–the fights that tore them apart before were proof–but if she was dating someone else it ruined everything.

                “Let’s try again,” Niall said.

                “Did you tell her anything?” Zayn asked.

                Niall, sheepish now, “I didn’t think I had to.”

                They all rolled their eyes at him. Louis spoke, “Telling the girl is key, Niall.”

                “I told her I loved her.”

                “You’ve probably said that too many times too casually for her to take you seriously,” Harry said.

                “Can we get back to the music, now?” the director said.


	18. Liam and Danielle

## Liam and Danielle

                Danielle brushed aside the camera trying to get her picture as she attempted to buy groceries. She was going to have to look into ordering her groceries so she wouldn’t have to get out of the car if this craziness continues. Strawberry or raspberry jelly was a more pressing dilemma. She liked strawberry, but Liam liked raspberry. She shook her head and smiled to herself. Why was she even thinking about this? Throwing them both in the cart, she pushed forward. She and Eleanor were planning a welcome home party for the boys and she was in charge of deserts. She wanted to make it herself and that involved buying the ingredients. It would also involve cooking, a skill she was till perfecting. She’d buy doubles of everything so she could try once and then make the final product.

                Checking out, Danielle headed for home. The apartment was nice, big, roomy, but she missed Liam. He would be so helpful in the unpacking process. She did okay, but some things were too heavy for her to move, and his strong arms would be so useful. She smiled to herself…strong arms…his smile…a kiss…

                Danielle’s lovely thoughts were interrupted by her door catching on a box. She leaned her entire body against it, slowly moving both box and door out of her way. Danielle stopped short. She hadn’t left a box by the door. Where was Liam when she needed him?

                “Hello?” It came out barely above a whisper. Stronger now, “Hello?”

                Something snuffled on the other side of the door. Great, Danielle thought, I’m being robbed by a criminal with a cold. She resumed pushing against the door. Danielle resumed pushing against the door, finally able to squeeze through the opening. A little body barreled into her calves causing her to almost drop the groceries.

                “Who’s at the door, Boris?” someone called from within the bedroom.

                “Eleanor?”

                “Danielle!” Something fell with a thud as Eleanor ran from the bedroom. “I was hoping you’d be home soon. I thought I’d help you unpack.” Eleanor took the bags from Danielle to the kitchen. “Boris wanted to come along.” Danielle crouched down and scratched the dog behind the ears. His back leg started kicking. “What are you doing here, Elle?”

                “Well…I was lonely and Boris wanted to see Auntie Danielle’s new house.”

                Danielle looked up at Eleanor about to say something when her phone rang. “Hello?”

 

                Liam was bumped awake as they headed back to the hotel. He wanted to call Danielle when they got back and have enough energy for the carnival tonight. Napping on the ride home had seemed like a good idea, but the car wasn’t the best place.

                They pulled up to the hotel and a sea of cameras and screaming. “Here we go again, lads,” Zayn said with a rueful grin. Out they plunged, bee-lining for the door. Once safe inside, they each picked an elevator and raced to their floor. Niall and Louis tied (though Louis swore up and down he won). Liam found his privacy in the hotel room and called Danielle.

                “Hello?” Her sweet voice answered.

                “Hey, Dani.”

                “Oh, Liam! Hey! It’s so nice to hear your voice. I’ve missed you so much! You wouldn’t believe how empty this apartment feels, though there are boxes everywhere. I could use your help. Where do you think the couch should go? I can’t decide if it should go right in front of the TV. or off to the side. And are we going to put anything in front of the big windows? I don’t know if we really want people to be able to see our stuff, but they’d be able to anyway…maybe we can get a bunch of plants or one of those little herb garden things.” She gasped. “We could get plants and decorate the pots with all sorts of designs and colors. That could be so pretty!”

                “Danielle,” Liam said patiently.

                “And are we really going to keep that blanket your cousin knitted for us as a literal house warming gift?”

                “Danielle…”

                “I suppose we can deep it in the linen closet and bring it out if she ever visits.”

                “Danielle, I didn’t call to talk about the apartment. I’m glad you’re working on it, but I really just called to see how _you_ were.”

                “Oh,” Danielle flopped onto the couch as she fiddled with the hem of her sweater. “I’m okay. I miss you.”

                “I miss you, too,” Liam murmured.

                Danielle smiled as a wicked idea occurred to her. “Close your eyes.”

                “Why?”

                “I’ll slide my hands under your shirt, feel the muscles beneath it, run my fingers around the waistband…” Her voice was low and seductive.

                Liam closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dani…” He wanted her to continue–she did–but he didn’t necessarily want to do it now. Who might walk in? It wasn’t helping that his mind was conjuring up images of a naked Danielle stretched out beneath him. He was going to let her keep talking, letting a few words move the pictures in his mind, but a tightening of is pants told him that his dignity was at stake if someone did walk in. “Uh…Dani…”

                “Oh, God. Are you not alone?”

                “No, I am, but,” Liam shifted in his seat. “I don’t know when someone is coming back.”

                “Well, call me again when you can. I’ll be waiting.” He could see the mischievous smile on her lips. “I promise,” he said.

               

                Eleanor emerged from the bedroom, Boris clicking along at her heels as Danielle hung up.

                “Hey, Elle, have you ever wanted to do something completely crazy for someone else?”

                “How crazy are we talking?”

                “Only a little bit.”


	19. Megan and Harry

## Megan and Harry

                Micaela burst out of the room with an exasperated sigh.

                “Is she almost ready?” Niall asked.

                “No,” Micaela snapped. “Darren screwed her up and she refuses to listen to me, convinced nothing looks good on her. There’s only one person she’d probably listen to or believe.” Her eyes landed on Harry.

                “Me?”

                Micaela rolled her eyes as if it was obvious. “She almost died when you said she was cute.”

                Harry rose. “So I should help her?” He’d been doing such a good job of taking his time with her. “I can’t go in there.”

                “All you have to do is pick out an outfit and tell her it looks good.”

                Harry took offense at her disinterest. “Megan is your friend. Her feelings shouldn’t be taken so lightly. You seem to just toss them aside. Maybe you should actually talk to her and listen this time.”

                “You don’t think I do?”

                “No, I don’t. You’re too wrapped up in yourself. Megan feels the same things you do.”

                Micaela broke into a gin and hugged him. “Help her,” she murmured. “But if you hurt her I will kill you.”

                She released Harry and let him enter the bedroom. Megan stood in front of a mirror holding a dress up against herself. Harry cleared his throat to announce himself. She jumped and–once she saw who it was–dropped to the floor. “What are you doing in here, Harry?”

                “Micaela said you needed help with your outfit.” Harry walked over to where she’d dropped down. When she hid she’d taken the quilt off one of the beds to over herself with.  He quirked his mouth into a smile.

                “You should stand up.” Megan shook her head. “I am not standing up.”

                Harry crouched down in front of her. He noticed a pair of shorts crumpled at the bottom of the nightstand. He reached across her to get them. She could smell him and he smelled good. She also realized how close they were and how very poorly dressed she was. Megan gulped, her eyes distracted by Harry’s jaw.

                “Now will you stand up?” His green eyes met hers.

                “Why do I need to stand up?”

                “How else am I supposed to dress you?”

                Megan knew her face was red. “I–I didn’t know that was the plan.” Her voice shook betraying her nerves.

                “Neither did I,” he murmured just before his lips fell on hers. Her hands left their tight hold on her cover to curl into Harry’s shirt. Harry broke the kiss much too soon for her liking, but a promise of more–much more–lingered on her lips.

                “Ready to stand up? The others will be getting antsy.”

                Megan nodded mutely and required assistance to stand (her knees were rather weak). When he was sure she wouldn’t topple over, Harry bent down and coerced her feet into stepping through the shorts. The fabric pulled up easily. Megan leaned against Harry as he did her zipper and button. She found herself wishing the zipper was going the opposite direction. Harry’s thumb brushed the crest of her hip as he moved away. The slight touch forced a shiver through her body.

                Megan chided herself for letting Harry get under her skin like that so easily. What if he was ready for more and she wasn’t? If a single brush of his thumb could make her lightheaded, would she be able to say no if she wasn’t ready? Would she even be able to say yes? Or would she be paralyzed unable to say anything? The mere thought of such a catastrophe made her nauseous. Megan came out of her paranoia when she realized Harry was digging through her suitcase. “Stop going through my suitcase.”

                Harry twisted around with a grin. “Afraid I might see some of your unmentionables?”

                Megan blushed. There wasn’t anything particularly terrible in her suitcase, but it was _her_ suitcase.

                “It’s a shame you already have your bra on,” Harry said as he stood. “That would have been fun to put on. Arms up.”

                Megan reached for the shirt. “I am quite capable of dressing myself.”

                Harry held it out of her reach. “Arms up,” he repeated.

                Megan rolled her eyes, but obeyed. Harry slipped the shirt over her head. It was an off-the-shoulder shirt that left one hot pink bra strap exposed. “Perfect,” Harry murmured in her ear.

 

                Their car pulled up to the carnival and a multitude of cameras and fans. Micaela, Megan, and Delilah peered out the windows anxiously. Megan, for one, was not prepared to be the center of teen magazine speculation. Harry sensed her nerves. “We already took care of it,” he assured her. They opened the sunroof and took turns popping through it. The screaming decibels increased with each boy’s appearance. Paparazzi were shouting for their attention. Megan grabbed Micaela’s hand out of nervous fear. Were these people going to harass them all night?

                Delilah turned to Niall. “What are we going to do?”

                “The carnival only sold a small amount of tickets. Security will take care of the rest.”

                Louis, the last one to pop through the sunroof, dropped back into his seat. Security began to move the cameras and the screamers out of the way. Harry took Megan’s hand. “Here we go.”


	20. Delilah and Niall

## Delilah and Niall

                “Last one there’s a rotten egg!” Louis shouted, racing to the Ferris wheel. The entire group bumped into line, pairing off into the obvious–Megan and Harry, Niall and Delilah– and then into Liam and Micaela, Zayn and Louis. “Alright, folks, here we go,” the conductor said with a grin.

                The wheel lurched into motion. Delilah watched her feet tap against the bottom of her seat as she and Niall rode in silence. Niall still wasn’t talking to her and he seemed to be angrier than before. Perhaps she should breach the topic. “Niall, why are you mad at me?”

                “Who said I was mad at you?”   

                “You did.” Delilah looked at her hands. “You don’t have to say it in so many words. I can just tell.”

                Niall grimaced. He could blame Delilah, but he didn’t want her to be making herself feel bad. It was a confusing emotion. “Who’s Nolan?”

                Delilah blinked at him. “What?”

                “Who’s Nolan?” Nerves ate away at the hasty dinner he’d scarfed down earlier. He was dreading the answer he’d had all day to prepare for.

                “Nolan’s nobody.”

                Niall snorted. “Emmett told me about the two of you.”

                “The two of us? What are you talking about?” Realization dawned on her. “I’m not dating Nolan.”

                “Delilah, don’t lie to me. Nolan told Emmett that you guys were dating and Emmett told me. I know. I get it, too. I haven’t been home for a long time and it must be hard for you to be alone–not that you spend all day locked in your room in solitary confinement, but I’m not there…God that sounds conceited–”

                Delilah cut him off. “Niall, I’m not dating Nolan. He asked me out, but I turned him down.”

                “Why?”

                Delilah stared at him. “Why? Why would I say yes? I don’t want to be with him. He bores me. You know those mundane conversations we have for hours that anyone else would find terribly boring? We’ll one with Nolan is worse than stabbing my eyes out with a spoon. He’s too…I don’t know. Nolan’s not you, Niall.”

                Niall couldn’t keep the relief he felt off his face. Delilah was his. Everything felt a little brighter, a little happier. A twinge of guilt still remained in his gut. He should have Niall couldn’t keep the relief he felt off his face. Delilah was his. Everything felt a little brighter, a little happier. A twinge of guilt still remained in his gut. He should have A: trust Delilah and B: asked her sooner. “Sorry, Lala.”

                Delilah smiled at the old nickname. She kissed his cheek. “It’s okay. It’s hard. I know.”

                Niall put his arm around his best friend, contented by the pressure of her body against his. They rode up and around once more, admiring the bright lights of the carnival. Delilah stretched up and kissed his cheek again. It was like people say; there was just something about Niall, something that made her know she wanted to be with him all the time. As Megan would say, he had that “it” thing that was irresistible.

                A slight gurgle from Niall’s stomach made her giggle. “Are you hungry?”

                “Of course I am,” he said.

                “Let’s go then.” Up they hopped from their seat and wove between the stands and people.

                “Did that say Nandos?” Niall asked suddenly turning back.

                “No.” Delilah studied the sign. “It says ‘Nachos’.”

                Niall shrugged. “Sounds good to me.” He took her hand and dragged her over. “One large nachos, please,” he ordered.

                The vendor–a large, gray haired man–stared before slowly making Niall’s order. His daughter was going to kill him when he told her who he’d served. “Uh, before you go, could you sign this?” He offered up a napkin for Niall to autograph. “You’re my daughter’s favorite.”

                “Sure,” Niall scribbled his name and took his nachos. “Thanks.”

                Niall and Delilah sat at a picnic table by themselves. Delilah leaned against the table watching the people pass by. A strange, yellow-orange object came into her line of vision. “Nacho?” Niall offered. Delilah wrapped her hand around his wrist (he was known to jerk the food away from her and make her work for it) and took a salty, cheesy bite. Finishing the chip, she leaned in and planted a salty kiss on Niall’s lips. He was so happy that she was his and was ready to make it official, but that was a discussion for another time.

 

                Kelly and her three friends were ecstatic they’d saved up enough money to buy one of the tickets to get into the carnival tonight. Kelly’s goal: woo Niall Horan. Her friends referred to her obsession as VDF: Very Dedicated Fan. They were lucky she hadn’t passed out yet with all the screaming and lack of ability to catch her breath. Kelly had been looking forward to this night for weeks.

                “Hey, Kelly, look over there,” one of her friends called out.

                There, sitting at a table with another girl, was Niall, her Niall. Kelly froze, her eyes grew wide, and she stopped breathing. She raised her camera and snapped a photo.


	21. Zayn and Micaela

## Zayn and Micaela

                Together as a group again, they were trying to figure out what they would do. Micaela was pulling for the roller coaster. A towering structure made of bare reinforced, rusty metal, Megan was adamantly against it. The way it shook had everyone else wary of it too. (Micaela didn’t completely trust it, either, but the spinning strawberries were out of the question.)

                “It’s not going to kill you. Plenty of people have gone on it before and nothing bad happened to them,” Micaela argued.

                “But we could be the ones something bad happened to,” Megan retorted.

                “I’ll go by myself then.” Micaela stalked away, silently hoping someone would follow so she could hold their hand. She put up a courageous front, but inside every part of her screamed for her to stop.

                Zayn was not about to let her walk around by herself. She could trip and break her arm, or bump into someone and cause a riot. There was any number of things she could cause accidently, and some higher power had deemed it should come to pass that Micaela was one of Zayn’s top concerns. She was probably hoping everyone would eventually come so they wouldn’t have to be alone together if he was the one to accompany her, but he would have to do. Zayn jogged away from the others and caught up to Micaela. “I’ll ride it with you.”

                She jumped when he spoke. “That’s great.”

                Zayn caught a hint of sarcasm, but mostly a lack of enthusiasm. She’d have to get over it. He watched her from the corner of his eye as they walked side by side silently. She crossed her arms over her chest and vainly tried to keep her chin form chattering. Zayn shook his head with a smile. Micaela had always been too sensitive to the slightest bit of cold. Tonight wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t hot. There was a slight chill to the breeze that was blowing, which must be going through her sweater if she was shivering.

                “Here,” he offered her his jacket.

                “I don’t need your jacket.” She lowered her arms, but still failed at concealing her chattering teeth.

                “Micaela, I don’t want you to be cold. Take the jacket.”

                They stopped walking. “I’m not cold, Zayn.”

                “Have you always been this stubborn?”

                “Yes, you were just more patient.”

                “And you weren’t so angry. Now take the jacket.”

                “I don’t need the jacket,” Micaela growled through her teeth.

                Zayn stepped closer. Micaela had forgotten how poorly her mind functioned when he got so close. With one hand he gave her the jacket and with the other he took one of hers. “Put the jacket on, Mickey Mouse, and let’s get a soda. All this arguing has made me thirsty,” Zayn said quietly.

                Micaela blamed Zayn for the lack of control she had over her own body as she followed him into a line. “But we barely fought,” she murmured.

                “What?”

                Micaela shook her head. Zayn smiled to himself as she eased herself into the disputed jacket and her teeth stopped chattering. The girl in front of Zayn seemed to melt when she turned and saw him. Micaela felt bad for the girl’s boyfriend who probably never got to be the one to make her melt. Micaela ignored the feeling of possessive jealousy that grew from that look, the urge to take Zayn’s hand and claim her territory. He’s not yours and you don’t want him, Micaela screamed at herself. She tried to clear her head by shaking it. Zayn had always had a knack for confusing her.

                “One extra-large Coke, please,” he asked the vendor. The man handed him the drink and Zayn grabbed two straws. Micaela walked with him greedily drinking the soda; she’d always been a Coke addict.

                Micaela thought as she walked. She was supposed to be mad a Zayn, but being alone with him without being reminded of why she was mad was making her forget why she was mad in the first place. She had to keep jogging her memory for the reasons behind her anger because otherwise she was terrified she’d fall for him again. Speaking of falling…

                “Watch out, Mickey Mouse,” Zayn chuckled, catching her just before she face planted. Micaela had an amazing talent for tripping over nothing. She reached for the Coke but Zayn held it out of reach. “No more for you. The caffeine is obviously getting to you.”

                “Zayn,” she growled.

                He made a big show of taking a long sip of soda just to irritate her. She glowered at him and lunged for the soda. “Give me some.”

                “I will not have you crashing later,” Zayn chastised.

                Micaela managed to get a hand on the soda with a mischievous smile.

                “Let go, Micaela,” Zayn warned.

                “You let go,” she retorted.

                “Don’t act like a child.”

                “Don’t act like my mother.” Both winced at her comment. Both knew her mother had left her, and all the reasons she hated Zayn came flooding back to her. Micaela’s face betrayed the hurt that bubbled up inside of her. Two people she’d loved had abandoned her: Zayn and her mother. A popping sound brought her back to her current dilemma.

                “Let go, Micaela,” Zayn told her quietly.

                She interpreted that as more than letting go of the soda. He was asking her to let go of her anger, her hurt; forgive and forget–two things she sucked at. “I hate you,” she muttered as she pushed him back roughly. Soda sloshed out of the cup and down Zayn. Her anger momentarily forgotten, Micaela covered her mouth with her hands to contain her mirth. Zayn dropped the now empty cup into the trash; at least his pants were dark.

                “Go ahead and laugh,” Zayn grumbled.

                Micaela was immediately doubled over, barely able to breathe. “I’m sorry, Zayn,” she wheezed. “What are you going to do?”

                Zayn walked over to a tent and bought a dry t-shirt. He did not want to walk around a carnival with a cold, sticky t-shirt. His wet pants he could do nothing about, though. He changed off to the side and then returned to Micaela. “What do you think?” He’d bought a gray t-shirt with One Direction’s faces across the chest. “You’re such a dork,” Micaela teased, then shrieked, “Ahhh!”

                Zayn threw her over his shoulder and walked towards the rollercoaster.

                “Zayn Malik put me down!”

                He was drawing attention to them and Micaela focused on his back to hide her red face. He was publicly humiliating her on purpose.

                “Zayn, pretty please put me down.”

                “I’m saving you from yourself. I don’t want you tripping over something.”

                “There’s no need for you to carry me like this!”

                “How else could I?”

                “You don’t have to!”

                He ignored her, thoroughly enjoying himself. Micaela gave up; both being stubborn, they could eventually wear the other one out. Zayn won this time, but she wouldn’t let it happen again. Her fingers curled into the bottom of his shirt so her hands had something to do.


	22. Harry and Megan

## Harry and Megan

                Harry pulled Megan behind a booth so he could kiss her properly. He wanted to be with her all the time, every day, and being famous hindered his desires. He was proud of himself, though. He was taking his time and being good boy, but time was running out and tonight was…

                “Harry!” Louis shouted. “Megan!”

                The interrupted couple rolled their eyes and returned to the group.

                “I bet that I’ll knock over all three towers and you won’t, Harry,” Louis challenged.

                “Okay,” Harry said. “What do I get if I win?”

                “One of those big stuffed animals.” Louis nodded at the menagerie of brightly colored animals hanging above the bored, portly attendant. Louis picked up three balls and aimed at the pyramids of silver milk bottles. He knocked the first two down easily, but missed the third; the bottom row remained standing. An intense stare down between Louis and the bottles did not instill fear in them and so he backed away to see if Harry could have better luck. Harry grabbed the balls and effortlessly knocked over all three pyramids.

                “Which do you want?” Harry asked Megan.

                She blushed and stared at the rainbow above her. “The unicorn, please.”

                The attendant reached up and got it for her. Its fur was a mess of pastel rainbow colors. Its hooves were hot pink, as was its mane and nose. The horn glittered from a tuft of hot pink hair. Harry was leaning in to kiss Megan, but paused as a mother and daughter approached. The daughter pressed against her mother’s legs, suddenly shy as she came closer to the boys. Her mother pushed her forward with a notebook clasped in her hands.

                “Um…could I get your autograph?” the little girl squeaked.

                Harry crouched down to sign her notebook. “There you go.” She asked the others to sign the trembling paper.

                Harry leaned in to finish the job, but his lips met fuzz instead of Megan’s lips. His face screwed up as his friends stifled their chuckles. Harry was face to face with the ridiculous rainbow unicorn. Megan pulled it away from her face with a giggle. Harry rolled his eyes and kissed her.

 

                The swish of fabric left her topless as he got them into the room. Her fingers curled into his hair as he laid a now half naked Megan onto the bed, crawling over her. Her hand snuck beneath his shirt to caress the muscles she’d dreamt of and admired in the many pictures she’d seen. His mouth devoured hers, anxious to have the rest of her. Megan’s fingers tugged at his shirt to get it off. Actually seeing the amazing body above her made Megan freeze. He looked unbelievable, but she knew she didn’t look that good. In fact, she felt completely inadequate. He’d get her totally undressed and regret it. Harry rested above her on his elbows.

                “What’s wrong, love? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he murmured.

                “I just…it’s just…you’re so…and I’m...” Megan was too embarrassed to finish her sentence.

                Harry’s lips possessed hers again. He knew how she was going to finish that sentence. Micaela had told him a little bit about Darren. He wanted very much to seriously injure that boy, but chances were low that the two of them would ever meet.

                Megan’s body arced against Harry’s as he deepened the kiss. His lips trailed from her lips to her throat. His hands wandered down her sides to her shorts so he could remove them. With her bottoms out of the way, he steadied her nervous hands as she removed his. Practically naked, Harry pressed his body against her. She could feel a certain bulge pressed against her leg, a bulge that released a flurry of butterflies in her stomach.

                “So beautiful,” he murmured against her collarbone. He took his time removing their unmentionables, peppering Megan with kisses.

                Megan experienced a moment of fear before Harry deflowered her, causing her mouth to for an O of astonishment. As he pumped in and out slowly to get her comfortable, she wrapped her legs around him, her breaths starting to come in as short gasps.

                “Harry,” she moaned. Her nails dug into his shoulders as some of the most intense pleasure built up inside of her.

                She went limp beneath him, eyes dazed. Harry rolled next to her to catch his breath. He left an arm around her, playing with her hair. He sent her one of his loving grins. This time he’d put the number in his phone.


	23. Danielle and Eleanor

## Danielle and Eleanor

                “Can you take us to…?” Danielle trailed off, her eyes meeting the taxi driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Oh no.”

                “It’s the…um…oh, what’s it called?” Eleanor interjected.

                The taxi driver scowled. He did not need two tourists who didn’t even know where they were going on top of everything else. His wife was threatening to leave him, his son was rebelling, and now these two.

                “Do you know where One Direction is staying?”

                Yes, he did, but the entire taxi fleet had been given strict orders to deny the information to curious fares. The cabbie shifted in his seat.

                Danielle leaned close. “Do you know?”

                “I can’t tell you that information.” Why couldn’t he just say no?

                “Dani, just call Liam. Ask him where they are,” Eleanor sighed. Her patience wasn’t long lasting after a long flight.

                “That will ruin the surprise,” Danielle groaned.

                Were these ladies so delusional? They weren’t going to get past security. They weren’t acting like they were worried about that, though. Maybe they needed a good psychiatrist; someone who could carefully shatter their dreams so they could come to grips with reality.

                “How much will it cost us to get you to take us to them?” Danielle asked.

                Now was his chance! He could get out of this. “Well, ladies, I–”

                “We’ll pay you ten times the fare if you take us to One Direction’s hotel,” Eleanor said.

                The taxi driver chewed on his lower lip. He could buy his wife a nice present, something to make her happy, maker her stay. He could do a lot with it. Would it be the end of the world if two girls simply got dropped off outside the hotel? They could have reservations and they know that One Direction was staying at the same lace. He’d been silly to assume that they were creepy fan girls. But there was the generous fare…but money was money and these girls were willing to pay.

                “I’d be happy to take you ladies to the hotel.” They pulled away from the airport as Danielle and Eleanor settled back on their phones.

 

                “The Magnolia. I knew it was the name of a flower,” Danielle said looking up at the hotel.

                Hopping out of the cab, Eleanor headed towards an ATM next to the front doors. “I thought it was a tree.”

                “I think it’s both,” Danielle murmured.

                Cabbie paid, they entered they hotel. Eleanor texted one of the boys.

 **Eleanor:** What are you doing?

 **Louis:** Swimming.

                “They’re swimming,” Eleanor informed Danielle. Danielle nodded in acknowledgement, dinging the front desk bell again. A flustered, acne-faced young man bustled out from a back room. Straightening his tie, he cleared his throat. “How can I help you ladies?”

                “We’d like to check in.”

                “Name?”

                “Heather Hart,” Danielle replied.

                “Right. Here you go.” He handed her a couple of room keys. “Hope your stay is nice.”

                The two girls left the desk and headed to the elevator.

                “Heather Hart?” Eleanor asked.

                “My manager,” Danielle murmured as the squeezed into an already crammed elevator. Eleanor smiled as they ascended. She couldn’t wait to see Louis. The doors opened on their floor. As they headed down the hall, Eleanor noticed an advertisement for tonight’s Karaoke Night.


	24. Megan and Micaela

## Megan and Micaela

                Micaela stared at the clock: 8:03 a.m. The bed next to her was still empty, Megan must be with Harry. Micaela was happy for her friend, but worried about how Harry would end it; he wasn’t known for longevity.  She didn’t want Megan to get hurt, but her brain couldn’t find any other solution. Maybe she and Harry would stay together. The separation would be hard, but Delilah and Niall were able to handle it, and she really needed to work on happy thoughts.

                The latch clicked and a person gasped. Micaela looked over her shoulder. “What?” she grumbled.

                “Your back,” Megan said pointing her finger. “What happened to it?”

                Micaela slumped onto her pillows. There was no way around it now. “My dad…” She didn’t want to look at Megan. She was embarrassed. “He, um, well…” Micaela hadn’t told anyone else about her dad. Megan sat on the end of Micaela’s bed, mesmerized by the little white lines on her back. Micaela began again, “My mom left and we were okay for a while, then he started drinking, and he’d been ignoring me up until now and before I knew it he was an alcoholic.” Micaela paused for a shaky breath. “It happened when I was looking through an old album. There was a picture of the woman who looked like me next to my dad. I asked him who it was–I didn’t know it was my mom at the time–and he got really mad. He hit me.” Megan watched her friend as she told her the story. Micaela had remained on her stomach, holding a pillow.

                “I think my dad took his anger out on me from when my mom left. I guess I reminded him too much of her. He escalated from hitting to punching and then to whipping. I saved up enough birthday money from relatives I’d never met and ran away to London. You know what happened then.”

                Megan reached out to touch one scar, as if her mind couldn’t accept that those scars were real. “Why did you come back?”

                “What?” Micaela flipped over to face Megan.

                “Why did you leave London?”

                “My dad found me and Aunt Millie wasn’t home to protect me. We went back home and dad kept me under lock and key.  I turned eighteen and finally left for good.”

                Louis burst in before Megan and Micaela cold talk further. “We’re going swimming. Wanna come?” They assented and Louis left them to get ready.

                “Where were you last night?” Micaela asked with a naughty smile.

                Megan blushed. “None of your business.”

                Micaela’s smile widened. Megan had been with Harry. “None of my business? Well then I’ll have to pester Harry about your whereabouts.”

                “You wouldn’t dare.”

                “Wanna bet?”

                Megan looked over her shoulders to be sure they were alone. “I slept with Harry last night.” Micaela hugged Megan. “Yeah, Megan!”

                The girls disentangled and proceeded to get ready. Megan was about to ask Micaela a question she was fairly sure she knew the answer to, but she wanted to be certain. “Did you sleep with Zayn?” Megan cringed; Micaela would most likely be upset.

                “Yes,” came the curt reply that answered and dropped the subject. Megan couldn’t help the small surge of anger towards Zayn. Why did he leave Micaela? Maybe she should talk to him.

                “Ready?” Micaela asked.

                “Yeah.”

                Other questions in Megan’s mind would have to wait.

                The two girls met the others in the living area. Harry pulled Megan into a quick kiss, leaving an arm around her waist. Micaela fell in next to Liam as they walked to the elevator. The pool was on the roof, amidst padded lawn chairs, potted palm trees, and umbrellas. Zayn tagged along, not wanting to be left behind. Whether he’d go in or not was another thing. He was standing in front of Micaela. Flashes of memories shot through her mind. A half-naked body, a kiss, a whisper, a caress.

                “Aren’t you coming?” he asked.

                Micaela shook her head and got off the elevator.


	25. Louis and Eleanor

## Louis and Eleanor

                “Louis, your phone,” Zayn said shaking the little device. Louis hopped out of the pool and dripped over. He dried his hands.

                “It’s Eleanor,” he murmured with a smile. “She wants to know what we’re doing.” He texted back and flopped into the chair next to Zayn. “You certainly are moody today. I think I know what it’s about…”Louis teased in a sing song voice.

                “No you don’t.”

                “You’re both so stubborn. Acting like nothing happened isn’t a good idea.”

                “That’s not bothering me.”

                “Sure it isn’t.” Louis wasn’t about to believe him. The elevator dinged. Two girls with big sunglasses on glided out. Zayn glanced at them, as did Louis, but neither paid much attention. As long as they left them alone, they were just fine. The two girls took seats across from them and stretched out beneath the sun. Louis thought there was something familiar about them…

                “Louis, come back!” Niall yelled.

                “I’m talking to Eleanor,” Louis replied.

                “Oh really?” Louis practically jumped out of his skin. The young lady standing over him took off her sunglasses and let her hair down. “Hey, Lou.” Louis’ eyes grew wide and he grinned. “Eleanor!” He wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and held her close. Eleanor returned his hug just as tightly. She kissed his cheek with a smile. They’d missed each other terribly.

                “When did you get here?” Louis asked pulling her into his chair.

                “Earlier today. Danielle and I wanted to do something crazy.”

                “Oh, please,” Danielle interjected. “You spent ninety-five percent of the trip wanting to go back and thinking it was a bad idea.”

                Eleanor scowled at her. “No I didn’t.”

                Danielle rolled her eyes, letting it go. She took off her sunglasses and cove up and swam over to Liam. She held onto his back and murmured in his ear. Liam craned his head back to kiss her.

                “Let’s go in,” Eleanor said.

                Up off the chair, she and Louis jumped into the pool. Everyone was so happy to see the two girls. Delilah was the only girl–other than Danielle–that Eleanor recognized, so she asked, “Who are they?”

                “The one Harry’s got is Megan. She’s a friend of Delilah’s and the other one is Micaela, who came with Megan. She’s a very old friend of ours.”

                Louis and Eleanor drifted away from the group to a quieter corner. Eleanor twisted around Louis so they were front to front. They put their heads together and murmured back and forth. She giggled as his lips found hers.

 

                Micaela sat next to Danielle on the couch as they were waiting for the others to get ready. The group had decided to go to karaoke night–a promise of bad singers and good humor. Micaela liked Danielle and she was happy Liam had found her.  A sparkle from her finger caught Micaela’s eye. A ring wrapped around it, a ring that made Micaela smile.

                “Are you and Liam engaged?” Micaela asked Danielle quietly.

                Danielle met her eyes. “Yeah.” She played with the ring a moment. “He asked me before coming here.”

                “Congratulations,” Micaela offered.

                “Thanks.” Danielle smiled at Liam’s old friend. She liked Micaela, even if the girl didn’t say much.

                “Oh no,” Eleanor said as she came into the room. “You guys need to see this.” She dropped onto the couch and held her phone for the others to see. “Someone made a page call ‘Girlfriends of Niall Beware’ and look!”

                Pictures of Niall and Delilah at the carnival eating nachos and holding hands and kissing cheeks were plastered on a webpage. Comments already spanned three pages; people were saying ridiculous things, calling her “fatty” because she had some of his nachos, “slut” and “whore” were commonly used, and one was simply outrageous.

How much do you think Niall’s paying her each night?

I don’t know, but the bitch probably charges double her usual rate.

Niall came out as they were scrolling through. “What are you looking at?”

                “Look at what this Kelly girl did!”

                Niall only had to glance at it to become angry. He didn’t care what people were saying–he knew it’d be bad–he wanted to fix it and protect Delilah. As he typed on Eleanor’s phone, Delilah came out. Her eyes looked teary like she was trying hard not to cry. Niall, finished with Eleanor’s phone, went over to her. “What’s up, Delilah?”

                “Look what Megan found.” She showed him the same page he’d just been looking at. His temper flared again. “No one has–”

                A new comment caught her attention.

Wow! Look how beautiful she is. I hope they’re as happy together as they seem. He better not screw this one up. I love her–NH

                “Let’s go downstairs,” Louis said taking Eleanor’s hand.


	26. Harry and Megan

## Harry and Megan

                Harry convinced Louis to take the others downstairs a little earlier so he could be alone with Megan. They needed to talk before time ran out. What Micaela or Delilah could tell her about him made him nervous; they both knew too much and were very protective. Harry wanted a chance to prove that this time around was different. He took a deep breath before going in her room.

                Megan looked up as the door opened. She smiled at Harry and paused her music. “Hey.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I thought I had more time to get ready.”

                Harry clasped his hands behind his back. “You do. I thought we should talk.”

                Megan’s smile faltered. Everyone knew what ‘we should talk’ meant; it was never good, so all she could manage to say was, “Oh, okay.” She sank onto the bed hands clasped in her lap.

                “Oh, God, no. It’s not a bad talk,” Harry said quickly, coming to her side. He took her hands in his and kissed her fingers. “Nothing’s wrong.”

                “Then why do we need to talk?” The prospect filled her with dread whether or not the talk was good or bad.

                “Well I…before we left London Liam and Danielle announced they were engaged and I started thinking and Louis made some good points about how I’m living my life…” Harry paused and laughed at himself. “That sounds so serious. I don’t want you to go home thinking that you slept with Harry Styles and that’s all you did.” Harry rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t want you to just leave. I want to come back to me. Maybe when you get to London you could drop by my place and we could do something.”

                Megan was looking at him with big, blue-gray eyes. He only meant to go in for a quick kiss, but as his lips met hers, Harry couldn’t stop. The way her fingers curled into his hair as a moan slipped from her throat somehow reminded him that he hadn’t asked her exactly what he wanted.

                “Be my girlfriend?” he murmured.

                Megan’s brow furrowed. What if he was playing some cruel joke on her? She would leave thinking one thing and the next week see him on top of some skinny, drunk blonde. Why did she think she was anything special to him? The desire to be his was there though. The thought of going home was very depressing. Who knew when they’d be together next? Could she handle that? Could she handle all the things that would follow becoming Harry Styles’ girlfriend?

                Harry brushed her cheek with her thumb. She was thinking too long. He figured she would reject him, taking the right to say she slept with him home to Chicago. He never wanted her to leave him, but she could and the wait seemed to validate his fear.

                “Yes.”

                Harry’s eyes grew wide. She would be his girlfriend! “Really?”

                “No.”

                A loud rushing sound filled his ears. No? Megan said no. She ever so cruelly got his hopes up and then crushed them. How could she? What was he going to do now? He shouldn’t have listened to Louis.

                Megan put her hands on either side of his face. “Harry, I’m kidding. Harry, look at me.” He brought his eyes to hers. “I’ll be your girlfriend, Harry.” She smiled and giggled as he kissed her.

                “Don’t do that again,” he muttered as he pulled back. She smoothed a piece of his hair back. “Of course not,” she promised. “But if we’re going to be on time, I have to get ready.” Harry loathed letting her go, but she was right; they eventually had to join the others. Megan left the bed and went to the bathroom. She–Harry was sure of this–meant to close the door, but it bounced back and stood slightly ajar. Harry just happened to be able to watch her undress. He did realize that this activity would probably land him on someone’s creeper list, but she was his girlfriend and he needed a shower too; a nice, hot, long shower. Harry went into the bathroom. It was already steamy in there.

                Megan closed her eyes as she scrubbed her hair. She was Harry Styles’ girlfriend. He wanted her, she wanted him, and that was not her finger.

                Megan opened her eyes to see a rather cheeky grin on Harry Styles’ face. Harry Styles was in the shower with her rubbing shampoo into her hair. She would not look down. Whatever she did she would not look down. She prayed he wouldn’t look down because naked in the light was very different than naked in the dark. She didn’t want Harry to be able to see everything wrong with her body.

                “What’s the matter?” Harry murmured.

                “You’re in my shower.”

                Harry smiled. “And?”

                But Megan couldn’t really answer. Her eyes were beginning to wander; down a throat–across strong, broad shoulders–a strong, open chest. She wouldn’t go further. A tentative hand reached out and connected a string of water droplets across the broad expanse of chest. His fingers tipped her head back in the water to rinse the suds out. She closed her eyes and smiled. It felt so good. His hand left her hair and found her ass.

                Megan gasped as he pulled her against him. His lips claimed hers and that was definitely not his leg pressing against her.


	27. Delilah

## Delilah

                Delilah leaned into Niall as they waited for their food and drinks. He rubbed her shoulder and kissed her hair. She was happy, perfectly and completely. The room grew dim as the yellow lights shifted to blue up-lighting. A lanky man with big glasses hopped onto the stage. “Welcome ladies and gentlemen to karaoke night. I hope you’re all ready for a fabulous show. We’ll go until two in the morning, so I hope everyone can stay. We will tart with Kenneth, an aspiring singer from Sydney.”

                Kenneth stumbled up the steps, already obviously drunk, and took the mic from the lanky guy. He started singing some song Delilah had never heard of, but the only line she could remember was ‘she thinks my tractor’s sexy’. Kenneth received more sarcasm than applause, but hopefully he was a better singer sober.

                Delilah was left with the other girls as the boys slipped away.

                “How long are you staying?” Delilah asked Danielle and Eleanor.

                “Trying to get rid of us?” Eleanor teased.

                “Of course. I always am,” Delilah returned.

                Danielle laughed. “We leave tomorrow morning.”

                “So soon?’ Megan asked.

                “Yeah. I’ve got a show to do,” Eleanor said.

                Megan nodded. Delilah took a sip of her drink and then nearly choked on it. She shouldn’t have been so surprised–it was karaoke night–but when she heard his voice she couldn’t help the shock.

                “Hey, everybody,” Niall said. “WE thought you’d enjoy a special performance.” He looked over his shoulder at the others to make sure they were ready, and they began to sing.

                Delilah smiled. She was so proud of them. Why was she acting so motherly? She was most definitely not their mother. Delilah shook her head. If she didn’t stop thinking like that now she’d creep herself out.

                She took another bite of the nachos they’d ordered. Megan looked like she was going to die. Danielle and Eleanor watched with their heads propped on their hands. Micaela was swirling her Coke around her cup with the straw. She was slipping back into herself; talking less, smiling less. Delilah had talked to Megan about it, and Megan said it was typical, but Delilah was still worried.

                “Are you feeling okay, Micaela?” Delilah asked.

                The other girl started. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

                Micaela glanced at the stages as they continued to sing. Delilah thought she saw a tear. “Are you sure?”

                Micaela looked at her. “Of course I’m sure. I’m perfectly okay.”

                Delilah ignored the sarcasm as the boys finished the song and hopped off the stage.

                “You need a drink,” Danielle staid to Micaela. She motioned for the waiter to bring over a drink. Micaela tried to get her to stop, but he was already there. “Have a drink.”

                Micaela stared at it.

                “It’ll help you relax and have a good time.”

                Zayn picked up the glass for his own.

                Micaela got up from her seat. “You always did drink enough for the both of us,” she muttered.

                Niall put an arm around Delilah, letting out a rush of air.

                “Was it something I said?” Danielle asked.

                Zayn shook his head “She’s like that.”

                Danielle turned to Delilah for a better explanation. “Unresolved issues.” Niall squeezed her shoulder. She gave him a kiss on the cheek.


	28. Megan

## Megan

                Harry pulled up a seat next to her. “Did you like it?”

                “Like what?” Megan was trying to see where Micaela had gone.

                “The song.”

                Megan rolled her eyes. “Of course I did.”

                “What’s wrong?”

                Megan shook her head. “Nothing.”

                Harry glanced around the table. Delilah met his eyes and subtly motioned to Zayn. Then Harry knew who was missing. “Where’s Micaela?”

                Megan shrugged. “I don’t know.”

                “Go check the bathroom. She goes there to freak out,” Zayn said flatly.

                “Go ahead,” Harry murmured.

                Megan shook her head. “I’m not going to let her ruin the night. If she wants to be pissy she can. I’m enjoying myself.” Harry kissed her cheek. Megan wasn’t going to leave, but she did worry about her friend. Eleanor turned to her. “So what are you ladies up to in Chicago?”

                Megan furrowed her brow. “What–”

                “I nanny and Megan’s still in school.” Micaela said from behind her.

                “Where did you come from?”

                “The bathroom.” Micaela muttered giving her a look that told her not to ask anymore. As Micaela reached for a chip, Megan grabbed her wrist. Her friend stared at her. “I wasn’t up to anything like that, Megs.”

                Louis cleared his throat, an indication of the mounting awkwardness. Micaela got her chip and leaned on the back of Megan’s chair. Harry threw Micaela a smile.

                “What are you going to school for?” Eleanor asked.

                “Business,” Megan replied. “Don’t know what I’ll do with it, but I’m sure it’ll be useful.”

                Megan rested her head on Harry’s shoulder as drunk a man started a slow song. An equally drink woman joined him. Megan wondered if they were together; if they weren’t they’d most likely would be tonight. She was only half listening to the song–something about water and another thing about bubbles, which reminded her off the show she just took. Megan smiled to herself; she would have a hard time showering by herself.

                “I’ll be right back,” Harry told her kissing her hair.

                Megan watched him go.

                “So have you guys talked about what's going to happy after we go home?” Micaela asked.

                Megan took a sip of her drink. “Yes.”

                Micaela raised an eyebrow. “And?”

                “We’re officially dating.” Megan couldn’t suppress her happy grin.

                “That’s wonderful,” Micaela said.

                “You don’t think that it’s a good idea.”

                Micaela shook her head. “It’s not necessarily a bad idea, I just…I’m worried about you. Harry can be really sweet, but sometimes he’s a complete idiot.”

                Liam interrupted. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry, Micaela.”

                “Why?”

                Harry’s voice filled the little room. “The sun comes up on another morning…My mind never wakes up without you on it…”

                Megan’s eyes grew wide as her cheeks flushed. His beautiful, sexy eyes were on her as he sang. Her heart beat so hard it hurt. It was like the moment in a movie when the two lovers saw each other for the first time. Everyone around them blurred together and moved in slow motion. Harry was the only thing clearly in focus.

                “Could there be a possibility…I’m trying to say what’s up…They say we’re too young for love…But I’m catching feelings…”

                Megan was on cloud nine as Harry finished singing and bounded over to her. He swept her into his arms and kissed her.

                “I love you,” she murmured.

                “Love you, too.”


	29. Louis and Eleanor

## Louis and Eleanor

                She was sitting at the bar waiting for her drink when he slid into the seat next to her.

                “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

                She turned to him, head propped on her fist. “I already bought this one.”

                “Well, then I’ll have to get the next one.”

                “What if I don’t stick around for the next one?” She arched one eyebrow, a sexy little move that distracted him for a second.

                “You’ll stay,” he returned with a confident smile.

                “And how do you know that?”

                He leaned in like he had a secret to share. “Curiosity.”

                She took her drink from the bar tender while he ordered one. He was wearing classic nerdy glasses, a shirt buttoned all the way up, and pants complete with suspenders. “Who are you?”

                “Dr. Jack Michaels, but you can call me Jack.” He took a gulp of his drink. “And you are?”

                “Bennie.” She offered her hand, which he took to his lips. Her eyes lit up, a spark of curious excitement lighting. “How nice,” she murmured.

                He smirked, not a mean or condescending one, but a confident one. Eleanor leaned back in her chair; this was going to be fun.

                “So what kind of doctor are you?”

                Louis swallowed. “Pardon?”

                “You said you were Dr. Jack Michaels. What kind of doctor are you?”

                “I’m a gynecologist.”

                Eleanor choked on her drink. “What?” she spluttered.

                “You heard me.” He was laughing at her. “What do you do?”

                “Well,” Eleanor said. “I don’t do anything yet. I’m on vacation from…college. My parents gave me an early graduation gift.”

                “Exciting.” Louis raised his glass to her. “A toast to the adventures of vacations.”

                Eleanor laughed. “You’re funny, Jack.”

                “Another drink?”

                She looked at him closely. Would she stay here and let him buy her another drink or would she go up to her room alone? Not a difficult decision. “Yes, please.”

                Eleanor leaned in with her new drink. “You’re not from around here.”

                Louis came closer. “How could you tell?” he stage whispered. “Was it my clothes?”

                “No, not the clothes. Something about the way you talk. You remind me of home. Maybe that’s why I’m sticking around.” Her hand found his on the arm of his chair and gave it a little squeeze. Louis brushed the warm skin with his thumb. “Jack…”

                “Yes, Bennie?”

                “Do you want to go somewhere else?” she murmured, big eyes meeting his.

                “My room?” Her voice was coated with feigned innocence, but her intent was clear.

                “You’re not an undercover cop are you?”

                “No, but I don’t think I could tell you that if I was.”

                Louis eyed her warily; Dr. Michaels didn’t want to get into trouble with the law. It could hurt his gynecology career.

                “If you’re that nervous, you can search for my badge upstairs.”

                “Well, then up to your room it is, Bennie.”

                She cocked her head to the side. “Your wife won’t mind?”

                “Who says I’m married?”

                She shrugged. “There’s just something about you.”

                “No, she won’t. She’s preoccupied with my assistant.”

                She laughed and took the arm he offered. They wove their way out of the bar as some men started stuttering through “Sugar Pie Honey Bunch”.  With the elevator all to themselves, Eleanor took the time to hold onto Louis tightly. He rubbed her hair. The separation was the worst part about this dream of his. Louis missed Eleanor only slightly less than he missed his mom. On his really bad days, he wanted to quit so he could be with all the people he loved all the time, but then someone talked to him and reminded him why he was doing what he was doing. Everything was better after that. Right now was a moment that he never wanted to end; standing here in the elevator holding Eleanor close without cameras or Harry or other people. Unfortunately all sweet moments come to an end, this one with opening elevator doors.

                “This way.” Eleanor pulled him down the hall to her room. She dug in her pockets for the key, found it, and opened the door. Eleanor gasped as Louis picked her up and carried her to the bed. He kissed her as his body settled over hers. Her hands played with his hair as he deepened the kiss.

                They pulled back for air. Eleanor whispered his name, but that was all she could say. Words were never enough; she felt so much.

                “Eleanor,” he whispered back as his lips hovered over hers.


	30. Micaela

## Micaela

                Liam sat between her and Danielle now. She was trying her best to be happier, but all she wanted was a bubble bath and chocolate ice cream. Zayn was sitting opposite her listening to a story Megan and Delilah were trying to tell, but they kept interrupting each other to add details. Harry and Niall were off…somewhere. Micaela had already forgotten where they’d said they were going; bad friend.

                Micaela looked back at Zayn and remembered a time when he’d be looking at her too. A pain of heartache stabbed her and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. It was his decision, she reminded herself. But she’d done nothing to keep in touch either, though that wasn’t her fault.

                “Excuse me.” Micaela got up and headed towards the bathroom. She was back to her fun sucking self and she knew it. She locked herself in a stall to be alone.

                “Micaela?”

                She froze against the stall door. Maybe if Megan didn’t hear a reply she’d leave her alone.

                “Micaela, I know you’re in here. What’s up?”

                “I don’t want to talk about it.”

                “Don’t do that again. What’s wrong?”

                Micaela slowly unlocked the door. She’d never been this easy to break before. “Today was the day. I woke up alone exactly like I did three years again. Zayn left me exactly three years ago today.” She hugged herself and looked up at the ceiling. “I think I’m going upstairs. I don’t want to ruin everyone’s night; I probably already have.” Megan let her go.

                Micaela was beginning to make her way to the door when she heard a voice, a very familiar voice singing one of her favorite songs.

                “Shut the door…turn the light off…I wanna be with you…I wanna feel your love…”

                Micaela froze to watch him sing to her, though only a few knew who he was singing to. It gave her a spark of hope; perhaps all was not lost. She found herself drifting towards him, staring as he sang.

                “You know I’ll be your life, your voice, your reason to be…I’ll find the words to say…before you leave me today.”

                She knew all the words, every single one, but she didn’t want to hear him sing them. She didn’t want to be feeling all these things. She didn’t want to remember that he didn’t want to remember her.

_“Zayn, why do you love me?” A hand, a touch, a shrug. “I don’t know. I just do.” A kiss. “But why? It can’t be that simple. How can you love me? Love is always complicated.” A caress, a sweet, sweet caress. “Love is simple. I love you. I really, really do.”_

                Micaela was very aware she was staring as her eyes teared up. How could she let him affect her in such a way, but all the feelings were flooding through her, like a tsunami crashing over a tiny island? She had to get away. She would not let herself become one of those girls that let a guy walk all over her. Zayn was not going to be important to her.

                “My love, my heart is breathing for this moment in time…I’ll find the words to say…before you leave me today.”

                Micaela ran; she ran from her friends, her feelings, her fears. She ran back behind the walls she so meticulously constructed. He couldn’t see her run, but Megan could and she shook her head, helpless.  It would take a miracle to stop Micaela from running.


	31. Zayn

## Zayn

                “Where’s Micaela?” he asked when he got back to the table.

                “She left after you finished singing,” Megan said as she returned to the table.  Maybe singing had been a little much, but she’d obviously gotten the message. “Maybe I should’ve just talked to her.”

                “Words are always nice,” Liam teased.

                “You probably wouldn’t have had a conversation. She’d have torn you limb from limb,” Megan muttered.

                Zayn stared at her. “What?”

                Megan arched her eyebrow. “She’s more pissed than usual.”

                “Why?” Niall asked.

                Megan continued to stare back at Zayn. “I’ll let him figure that one out.”

                “Change of topics,” Danielle announced.

                Zayn checked out of the conversation, worried about where Micaela was or what she might be doing. Harry was pulling Megan to the dance floor. With too many drunken crooners the management decided to opt for a dance party instead, though Zayn found this new option more dangerous. Random people would grab a mic and start singing, but no one was really listening anymore.

                “She probably went to the gym,” Megan told him before disappearing.

                Zayn pushed out of the crowded room into the empty lobby. It was nice to be alone for a little bit, he could get his thoughts in order.  Maybe she’d had enough time to cool off. What would he say? Sorry didn’t seem like it’d be enough.

                He opened the door to the gym, immediately hearing the sound of punching mixed with crinkles of paper. As he got closer the rate of hitting increased. She was punching–hard. She’d been doing this a long time obviously. He came up next to her, completely blanking on what to say, so he uttered, “Hey.”

                She froze, braced against the bag. He took the seconds she paused to notice the picture she’d taped to the bag: A tear out page of his face from a magazine. It’d already been torn up and taped together before.

                Without warning she yelled and started wailing away at the bag. The hits were rapid, like a torrential downpour on   a tin roof. She was still yelling when her fist tore through his patched up face. She stared at it, a wild animal that finally cornered its prey. Micaela turned on him. She pushed him back, breathing heavily. “Why are you here?” She demanded. With every advancing step she made he took two back. “Why the bloody hell are you here?” she screamed. A cry of frustration burst from her as she raised her fist. He reached out and stopped its descent.

                Her eyes glared at him as her lips curled into an animalistic snarl. She jerked back, but he wasn’t about to let her have another shot. “Micaela, stop.”

                She broke, popped like a balloon, becoming the small, shy girl he invited over one cold, rainy afternoon. Her knees buckled and she fell in a heap on the floor. His heart hurt seeing her so small and helpless. The ache intensified when she started crying.

                He sat next to her and she crawled onto his lap. She cried hard; tears, sobs, hyperventilating breaths; the whole nine yards. Micaela never had been a…graceful crier. It was all or nothing with her. Zayn held her, stroking her hair and mumbling random words as he tried to restore some stability to her personal state. She calmed enough to quiet her sobs and let only tears fall.

                “Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered. Her arms wrapped tight around. “I’m going to have to carry you, aren’t I?” Her head nodded against his chest. Zayn gathered her in his arms and began walking to the elevator. As they rode up, she began mumbling something he couldn’t quite understand. He kissed her forehead. If this elevator never reached its destination, he’d be happy. He had his Micaela right now; the girl he fell in love with a long time ago.

                The elevator did make it to their floor. He was forced to put her down so she could open the door. She walked into the dark towards her bed. He followed her to make sure she got tucked in properly. Micaela perched herself on the edge of the bed. With her head bent down, her hair fell in front of her face, but the shadows of the lamp couldn’t hide the fresh tears.

                “Do you need anything?”

                She shook her head. What kind of question was that? Does she need anything? He knew what he needed, but his needs were not going to be fulfilled tonight.

                “Where are you going?”

                It was a quiet question. The kind of question that made a man swallow hard and fight every desire he had with reserves of will power.

                “Stay, Zayn…please.”

                He crawled next to her in the dark beneath the sheets. She closed the space he left between them, her head resting on his chest. She was exactly as he remembered her. Why had he not tried harder? Why did he not go after her? Every idiot knows you go after the girl.

                “Zayn?”

                “Hmmm…”

                She yawned. “Remember that rainy day when you told me you loved me?”

                “Mhmmm…”

                “I–I never said it back. I fought it even though I–I loved you too. I loved you. I still do, but I never told you.” His arm went around her. “Is that why you left me? Because I never said it back?”

                “No.”

                “Why did you leave me, Zayn? Why did you leave me?”

                Yeah, Zayn, why did you leave her?

                “Zayn?”

                “Hmmm…”

                “I didn’t mean what I said earlier about you drinking enough for both of us.”

                He pulled her closer. “I know.”


	32. Micaela

## Micaela

                He woke up before her, bodies pressed together. His one arm was pinned beneath her head; his other was around her waist. In the night he must’ve pushed her shirt up because his arm was across her bare skin. How was he going to get away without waking her up?

 

                Micaela woke up­­–alone. She stared at the empty place next to her where she could still see the indent of Zayn’s head on the pillow. “I didn’t expect that son of a bitch to be here anyway,” she muttered to herself. She knew she was lying to herself, but it’d worked before and it would have to work again. Reaching for the remote, Micaela turned on the morning show. She screamed and threw a pillow at it. Zayn, along with the others, was on the show. He could’ve said something.

                “What was that about?” Megan asked as she came into the room.

                “Nothing.” But Megan saw the TV before Micaela turned it off. “How are you doing?”

                Micaela shrugged. “I’m quite alright.”

                Megan sat at the end of the bed. “We share a room, Micaela. I know he was here last night.”

                Micaela curled up on her side. She should talk to Megan; she really should, but she didn’t want to. Megan was happy and she didn’t want to ruin it for her. Micaela frowned. That wasn’t the reason she didn’t want to talk. She simply didn’t want to, so she wouldn’t.

                “Hello?” Megan said, dragging out each syllable.

                Micaela showed the blankets off of her and slammed the bathroom door. She stripped and ran a hot, practically scalding bat. Slipping into the water, Micaela stared at the wall across from her. Her mind went numb as it focused on counting to 100 to calm itself. Megan was probably upset by how rude she’d acted. There’d been no reason to storm away. Megan could sense her distress and only wanted to help. Micaela would need to apologize later. Micaela released a long breath that came out as a soft whistle.

                Each of her wrists had five little white lines on them. Her fingers walked up and down them in different patterns, an attempt to calm down. She remembered the first time she’d cut herself. She’d been thirteen and her whole body ached from the beating she’d gotten the previous night. Sleep had evaded her as thoughts of suicide and revenge chased each other in circles through her mind. Suicide would end her suffering sooner, but if she killed herself revenge would never be hers. A twisted compromise had formed: her father wouldn’t be the only one to mar her body. The damage done by her father had faded slightly, but these little white lines were still clear, made more permanent by repetitions.

                Micaela began scrubbing herself, trying to wash away years of bad memories. She raked her fingers through her hair; roughly attacked her body with the washcloth. No soap or shampoo was used, though. She’d spent many hours in hot baths; she wasn’t physically dirty, it was all internal and untouchable.

                Megan knocked on the door. “Micaela?”

                “What?”

                Her friend came in (the shower curtain separated them) and sat next to the tub. “Are you ready to talk?”

                Was she? She didn’t usually talk, but if she wasn’t, her mouth was. “I’m sorry for storming out like that.”

                “It’s okay.”

                “Zayn has said that to me so many times. He was lying every time he said it. I was hurting him and I’m hurting you.”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Being in London was the first time I’d felt any control over myself. Back home, any touching was punishment for something so I wasn’t ready for someone to touch me nicely. It took me months before I ever gave anyone a high-five. Zayn would try to hug me or something like that and I’d pull back. I hated myself for that. I'd say it was okay, but I could tell; I was hurting him.”

                “Did you ever tell him why?”

                “Yeah. He tried to give me a hug and I practically hyperventilated. He’d gotten mad and then I told him everything.” Micaela sank a little lower in the water. Her toes stuck out by the faucet. Toes were weird appendages when you really took the time to notice them. “I still love him.”

                Megan started. “What?”

                “I still love Zayn. I’m mad at him sort of, but I’m more mad at myself for still loving him. You’d think in three years I’d be able to move on.”  Her teeth started chattering before she finished speaking.

                “Micaela, are you sitting in cold water?”

                “It was hot at some point.”

                “Get out,” Megan ordered.

                “Hand me a towel, please?”       

                Micaela took the towel Megan held in the tub as she stood. The water drained as she stepped out and dried off. Megan waited for her in their room. Micaela put on the gray t-shirt and black shorts from the truth or dare night and crawled back into bed.

                “The boys are back from the morning show. We were all going to see Eleanor and Danielle off and then go sightseeing. Do you want to come?”

                “No. I can’t face him yet.”

                Megan nodded and left. Micaela settled deeper into her pillows and turned the television on again.


	33. Megan

## Megan

                They all crammed into the back of one of the cars as they went to airport. Micaela was conspicuously missing, but no one said anything. Danielle found it odd that, though they were supposedly old friends, the boys seemed to ignore her obvious distress. She shook her head; they’d probably given it up to hormones and pushed onward. Eleanor liked Micaela, but found her a bit stand-offish, unlike her friend Megan who was bubbly and social.

                Megan held Harry’s hand. She used the time she had now to plan what she would say to Zayn. Today was the day she would talk to him; neither Zayn or Micaela was going to say something to the other so it was time to intervene. She couldn’t bring herself to add what she learned this morning.  Micaela’s love confession was too sensitive to use yet.

                Zayn met her eyes for a moment; such intensity shook her a bit. She could tell why Micaela and Zayn had gone out; their passions definitely had a magnetic attraction to them. Megan wasn’t superficial or anything, she just felt things to a lesser degree than Micaela.

                At the airport, security cleared the way through the paparazzi before the group got out of the car. Harry pulled Megan close to him so she could feel a measure of safety amidst the clicking, flashing, and shouting. Megan mentally prepared herself for the speculation and circulation she would be experiencing in the near future.

                Liam, Danielle, Eleanor, and Louis were walking as slow as they possibly could without making the girls miss their flight. Harry swung he and Megan’s hands back and forth  as they walked. They got stares, but she didn’t care. She was holding hands with Harry Styles! These fan girl responses to him were going to have to stop, but for now, as long as they stayed in her head, they were fine. The others–Harry, Megan, Niall, Delilah, Zayn–stood back as Liam and Louis said goodbye to Danielle and Eleanor. Harry pulled Megan away so they were partially hidden behind an advertisement.

                “I wanted to give this to you, and now seems like a good time.” Harry looked around as if he was just noticing where he was. “It’s an airport; maybe I could do this better.”

                Megan smiled at him. “Take a deep breath and tell me what you’re talking about.”

                Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a little box. “I bought it last night. Niall helped me pick it out.” He opened it to reveal a little silver ring with three tiny diamonds embedded in the band.

                “Harry…what…” What was he doing? Megan stared, mouth open, at the ring it was so pretty, but he wasn’t trying to–

                “I’m not proposing,” Harry chuckled. “I’m promising. I really, really like you and I don’t want anyone to scare you away. I promise that I will be yours and only yours for as long as this lasts.” He slid the ring on her finger while she tried not to cry or hyperventilate. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly; this was perfect.

 

                Megan sat up from her nap with Harry on the couch as Micaela came out of their room. She smiled at her friend who still looked pretty pissed off. “Hey,” she whispered.

                “Hey,” Micaela returned.

                “Are you feeling better?”

                Micaela shrugged. “I guess. I was never really bad, just…irritated…disappointed. I don’t know.”

                “But you’re at least up now.”

                Micaela smiled, though it wasn’t a real one. Megan worried about her friend, even though Micaela practically took the place of her mom. Her life–Megan’s­­– was going so well, though she was sure something was bound to go wrong at some point, and Micaela’s was a mess. If Megan had known everything beforehand…she probably would have still asked Micaela–there was no one else she wanted to share this with–but she would’ve had a better handle on the violent mood swings Micaela cycled through. There was nothing she could do now.

                “Is everyone resting?” Micaela asked.

                “Yeah. We all,” Megan looked pointedly at Micaela; her friend was not going to miss tonight’s activity, “were thinking about doing something later.”

                Micaela got the point. “Sounds great. Any ideas?”

                “Nope.”

                Megan had now followed Micaela back into the bedroom. “Why did you let Zayn sleep with you last night? You haven’t really talked since the carnival.”

                Micaela sighed. “Every night I have a nightmare that my dad is chasing me. I scream for someone to help me. When Zayn’s around I don’t have that nightmare.”

                Megan remembered the plane ride and Micaela shouting Zayn’s name. “Oh…but when did you two get together?”

                “I suppose he came and found me after he sang. I started crying, he picked me up, and I asked him to stay.”

                Megan knew she’d gotten as much detail from her friend as she was going to get by the way Micaela held her arms crossed over her chest. This whole Micaela-Zayn crap was getting old. Why wouldn’t they speak to each other? Micaela was wasting her time and Zayn was simply being stupid. No one else was trying to fix the obvious wrong, so that left Megan to do something. But what? She couldn’t possibly orchestrate some grand scheme properly in the little time she had left. Something simple…

                Megan left Micaela and Harry as she went into the hallway. When she closed her door, another one opened. Zayn stepped into the hallway and looked at her. “Hey, Megan.”

                Light bulb! “Hey, Zayn. Um, could I talk to you?”

                “Sure.”

                Think, Megan, she ordered herself, but no easy way of asking this question was coming to mind, so she just went for it. “Why did you leave Micaela?”

                He smirked. “Subtle.”

                Megan crossed her arms feeling embarrassed. “Just answer me.”

                “I wanted to try out for the X-Factor.”

                “That’s not what I meant.”

                He raised an eyebrow. “Really? You asked why I left her.”

                Megan bristled. How rude. “What’s wrong with you?”

                Zayn grimaced. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

                Now this was just awkward. Someone needed to say something.

                “I didn’t mean to.”

                Megan stared at him. “Pardon?”

                Zayn ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to make her think that I left her or put my career ahead of her. I thought that not saying good-bye made everything less final; open ended somehow.” Megan rolled her eyes and muttered stupid, but Zayn ignored her. “I went to the X-Factor and, well, you know what happened. I never forgot her and I tried to get in touch with her. I wrote her a letter because, well, it’s more thoughtful than a phone call and less expensive. Why the money mattered I don’t know, but that’s not important. The letter came back to me. I thought–I knew she was pissed at me, but I thought she’d at least read it.”

                “Her dad got her. She never knew the letter came.” Megan saw that as the only explanation because Micaela would’ve memorized that letter if she’d gotten it.

                “What?”

                “After you left, her dad found her and took her back to America.”

                “Fuck,” Zayn growled.

                Megan felt a little bubble of happiness grow inside her. He obviously still cared for Micaela.

                “So is that what you say when I appear now?”

                Megan turned around. Micaela stood just outside the door hugging herself.


	34. Micaela and Zayn

## Micaela and Zayn

                She stood there glaring as he stared back. Megan quickly went back not her room.

                “Hey,” he said.

                She scowled. “Hey.” She turned on her heel and started walking away.

                “What are we doing?”

                “I don’t know. What are we doing?”

                “We have to talk about us.”

                She turned back to him. “Are you just having this not-so-brilliant idea now?”

                “Sort of.”

                “We don’t have to talk.”

                “Yes we do.” Her eyes grew wide as if she was scared of him.

                “What is there to talk about? You left. The end. Period.”

                Zayn felt the first flames of anger spark inside. “You knew I was leaving.”

                “Who leaves without saying goodbye?”

                “I came back.”

                “You came back? I’m the one who flew here _three years later_!” Micaela turned around arms crossed. She was going to hit him if they didn’t stop now. Zayn stepped closer. “Do you remember the night I left?” he asked.

                She looked over her shoulder at him, every word dripped with acid. “I remember it quite clearly.” She emphasized the “t” in quite. “2:30 a.m. I wake up from a nightmare and I know you’re gone. I trusted you and you abandoned me just like my mom and my worthless dad. You were the only person I could ever trust to be there for me ; my mom left, my dad was a piece of shit, and Aunt Millie was ready to leave with whatever guy decided to spend time with her.” She paused for a breath. “I watched that damn show every night praying the camera would focus on you so that I could pretend you were looking at me, remembering me.”

                He was close to her now, able to reach out and touch her, but he held back. “I was thinking about you the entire time.” His voice was calmer, which irritated her more.

                “Then why was it never you who called? Why was it always Aunt Millie in some godforsaken village in the middle of nowhere?”

                “I’m a jerk.”

                “You’re not a jerk,” she said in a sickly sweet voice that turned blunt, “You’re an asshole.”

                He put his hands on her shoulders to attempt to turn her around.

                “Get your fucking hands off me,” she growled.

                He was not in the right frame of mind to take his ‘fucking hands off’ her. “Do you remember how I kissed you that last night?” She turned under his hands, bringing her eyes to his. He could tell she was still angry, distant; he hadn’t worn away all her barriers just yet.

                “I think it went a little something like this.” She stood on her tip-toes and pressed her lips to his. She was only gentle a mere second before the kiss exploded into a possessive, angry, passionate affair. Zayn pulled her off the ground, her legs wrapping around his waist. He was glad Liam was with Louis doing…something; Zayn was only completely sure that his room was empty.

                Micaela pulled her lips away to catch her breath as he opened the door. Her lips found his neck and nibbled, sucked, kissed until a growl tore its way out. He pulled on her hair to bring her lips back to his and took control. She was still holding back, hiding behind one final wall. He would break through; he always could. Her legs were off of his waist now, but he was walking them backwards to the bed, his hands on her ass. He slammed her body against a wall, hands gripping her hips, in an attempt to shatter her remaining defenses. Her eyes bulged slightly from the impact. (It wasn’t a hard hit, just shocking.) He saw what he wanted: openness.

                Micaela’s mind scrambled to collect it’s thoughts as his lips traveled down the curve of her neck. Thought collecting was a difficult task when, pressed between a wall and Zayn, she was so distracted. His hands were beginning to wander. She couldn’t let him back in so easily; he needed to beg and grovel before–

                “Holy–”

                Zayn grinded against her, making any coherent thought impossible. He smiled into the kiss, still feeling the anger she was holding onto. His hands gripped her hips and held her in place as he grinded against her again. He lifted her away from the wall, her body hunched over and her hands gripped his shoulders as he carried her to the bed. She flopped when he dropped her. She was wearing the same thing she wore on movie night. He hovered over her, a smile crept over her lips. She grabbed his shirt to pull him closer to her. She kissed him hungrily, craving the satisfaction to the longings of the past three years. His hands pushed beneath her shirt to cup her breasts.  His thumbs rubbed over the hard nipples sending sparks through her, but she wasn’t about to let him know what he was making her feel. Zayn smiled; she was being stubborn. He grinded against her again.

                “Zayn,” she whimpered. Finally. She pulled his shirt off, reveling at the strong muscles rippling beneath her fingers. He removed her shirt and pressed their half-naked bodies together. Her hand traveled to his pants to remove them. Pants gone, she grinned against his kiss as her fingers dipped beneath his boxers. He froze a moment before his mouth possessed hers again and his hand guided hers. She knew she was driving him crazy, but he was letting her.

                He pulled her hand away and pinned both of her hands above her head. He smirked down at her, for all the front she put up, she was so damn soft underneath. She looked into the eyes she’d loved seeing looking back at her a long time ago. It was her turn to initiate the grinding; two could easily play that game. Zayn left her one searing kiss before letting go of her hands and dipping his head to pull her shorts off with his teeth. On his return up to remove her underwear he let his tongue dip in her bellybutton. If he kept kissing her like that she was going to go insane.

                She finally got a chance to practically tear his boxers off and they were completely naked together. Zayn settled over her, denying her what she was almost begging for, but almost was the key word. He kissed her, teasing her by shifting his hips ever so slightly. She yanked on his hair. “Zayn, please.” Micaela wanted him so badly and he was making her beg. “Zayn!”

                Oh, God. Oh, God…It’d been a long three years; she’d missed so much. She’d missed Zayn, yes, but this…this she’d missed a lot. She arched her back as he thrust inside her again. She couldn’t help the little scream that slipped out. She captured his mouth in hers, hoping he’d missed this as much as she had. His lips trailed from her ear down her breasts. Her fingers curled into his hair as he sucked. She cried out a little–half in pleasure, half in disappointment–as his lips came back to her. Micaela pulled him closer with her arms and legs as intense waves of pleasure coursed through her.

                “Oh, God,” she moaned as she climaxed.

                He lay next to her, letting one hand massage her breast. She kept her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath and prayed this wasn’t some fantastic dream. Where did they go from here? Were they back together? Had this been some perverted type of I’m right-you’re wrong fight? What was Zayn thinking?

                “Stop thinking,” he murmured kissing her furrowed brow.

                She had already fallen back in love with him. She opened her eyes. “Zayn, I…” She looked at him, next to her, protective and possessive. How was she going to survive like this? “Zayn, I…”


	35. Megan, Delilah, and Micaela

## Megan, Delilah, and Micaela

                Delilah pulled them into the bedroom so they could be unnoticeably mischievous. “We have to do something exciting for Niall’s birthday.”

                “What do you have in mind?” Megan asked; this _was_ the whole reason they were down under.

                Delilah shrugged bouncing on the bed. “I don’t know; something unexpected.”

                “A surprise part,” Megan suggested. “Cake, ice cream, streamers, balloons…”

                “You’re so innocent,” Micaela chuckled putting her hand on Megan’s shoulder. “Niall is sweet on the outside, but he is a total guy otherwise. I’m sure Delilah can attest to that.” Delilah rolled her eyes. “Niall would politely accept your party–which would be hard to pull off in…twenty minutes–but he wouldn’t be truly satisfied.”

                Megan crossed her arms. “If you don’t think it’s a good idea, just say so. No need to be so dramatic,” she muttered.

                “Why don’t we go clubbing?” Micaela suggested.

                “Clubbing?” Delilah raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

                Micaela broke into a grin.

                “Can you see Liam at a club?” Megan laughed.

                “‘Everybody at a respectable distance.’ ‘Be safe.’ ‘Do your parents know you’re here?’ Don’t be ridiculous!” Delilah teased.

                “You know what else would kill him?” Megan said “Strippers.”

                “That’s perfect!” Delilah exclaimed.

                “I saw an ad for a company that specializes in adult entertainment,” Micaela said nonchalantly.

                Megan stared at her friend. “What were you watching?”

                Micaela grinned. “The big girl channel.” She got off the bed and flipped through the pad of paper on the nightstand. “I wrote it down somewhere in here.”

                “You wrote down the number?”

                “Megan, you shouldn’t sound so surprised. You know I write down everything.”

                “Even an adult entertainment number?” Delilah asked.

                “Yep.”

                Megan took a good look at her friend. Something was…different. “Is your shirt on inside out?”

                Micaela looked at her sleeve’s seam. “I suppose it is.”

                “How did it get like that?” Delilah and Megan lay across the bed, both pairs of eye trained on the girl with the inside out shirt. Micaela turned away from them as she dialed the number.

                “Micaela, tell us!”

                Micaela moved the phone from her mouth. “I slept with Zayn.” She turned away as Delilah and Megan practically fainted. She slept with Zayn? Were they a couple now? Was the past finally the past? “Thank you.” Micaela hung up the phone and sat facing Megan and Delilah.

                “You slept with Zayn?” 

                “It was just a one-time relapse type thing.” She was trying to brush off the fact that leaving that bed had been one of the hardest things she’d done.

                “So you aren’t mad at each other?”

                Micaela flopped back on the bed. “Possibly not. We’ll see.”

                “Possibly not?”

                “We’ll see?”

                “Micaela,” Megan said. “Don’t try to pass sleeping with Zayn off as a little thing.”

                “Can we drop it?”

                “So when I called you, you weren’t coming from the gym?” Delilah asked.

                _Micaela pulls her phone out of her bag answering with whatever breath she could manage to catch. Delilah wants to plan…something. Zayn hadn’t even run after her…_

“No. Not anywhere near a gym.”

                Megan changed the subject. “So you got the strippers?”

                Micaela smiled. “Yeah. They’ll be here around ten.” The three were quiet. “What are we gonna get this boy for his birthday?”

                Delilah bounced out of the room and came back in with a box neatly wrapped. “Already got that covered.”

                “What is it?”

                “A trucker hat. Says _Property of Delilah_ across the front.”

                “Perfect.”

                Megan ran her finger over the promise ring, a habit she’d acquired in the short time she’d had it. Micaela and Delilah had warned her about Harry’s loose tendencies, but he seemed pretty serious. Micaela noticed her playing with the ring.

                “What’s that, Megs?”

                “A promise ring from Harry. I can trust him right?” Sudden fears terrified her and made it hard to breathe for a moment.

                “Yes,” Micaela and Delilah replied in unison.

                Megan could breathe a little easier. “Are you sure?”

                “Have I ever lied to you?” Micaela asked.

                Megan quirked up an eyebrow. “Yes. You have.”

                Delilah jumped in. “You can trust Harry. He’s a good egg.”


	36. Niall

Niall  
“Happy Birthday dear Niall…Happy birthday to you!” Delilah set the cake on the table in front of Niall. He took a deep breath and blew out the numerous candles Delilah had stuck on it. Delilah leaned over the cake and gave him a little kiss murmuring, “Happy birthday, babe.” Niall smiled, slid his finger around the edge of the cake, and spread the icing he picked up on Delilah’s face. Delilah’s eyes and mouth opened wide. Niall thought she looked cute irritated with icing across her face. If they were alone he’d lick it off, but unfortunately they were with friends.  
“You’ve got a little something on your face,” Louis teased.  
Liam handed her a napkin. “I’m going to get you, Niall Horan,” she muttered.  
“Sure you will, Lilah,” he said.  
Delilah narrowed her eyes. “Micaela, can you get me the knife?”   
Micaela obliged and helped Delilah serve cake and ice cream.  
“So what did you wish for, Niall?” Harry asked.  
“He can’t tell you that,” Megan interjected. “If he does, it won’t come true.”  
“What do I have to wish for anyway?” Niall said. “I’ve got every ting I need.”  
“Hopefully not. We all chipped in to get you something you don’t have.”  
Niall took the box from Delilah. He tore at the paper to expose an unmasked brown box. He shook it. Nothing jingled or wiggled inside. He ripped the tape off and opened it. Inside was a trucker hat with Property of Delilah stitched across the front. Niall laughed. “Thanks, sweetie.”  
Someone knocked on the door. Liam was the one to answer it. Two girls in tight, spandex police uniforms that were much too short waited on the other side.  
“We receive a complaint¬¬–”  
Liam held up a hand to stop her. “Ladies…uh…I think you’ve got the wrong–”  
Delilah wrapped her arms around his waist. “C’mon, Liam. Thank you for coming officers.” She pulled Liam out of the police officers’ way. Niall looked up as they came in. He swallowed hard. This was going to be a good birthday.   
Micaela, Megan, and Delilah smiled and waved themselves away. One of the girls approached him with handcuffs dangling from her finger. “I heard you were being a naughty boy.” Cold metal closed around his wrist. “I’m going to have to ask you a few questions.”

The three of them walked in with half finished sodas and rather large grins on their faces. One went in and out of the back room, yawning she crashed in an empty chair. Another went to her bed and crawled into the warm sheets. The third girl took him by the hand, bidding the others goodnight. She closed the door and waited; what happened now was up to him.  
Niall moved close to her, his hands resting on her hips. “Do you know how much I love you?”  
Delilah shook her head with a devious grin. “You’ll have to show me again.”  
He smiled as he leaned in to put his lips on hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck as they stumbled to the bed. She was the only other thing he thought he’d die without; exactly how he would ever make her understand that he didn’t know.


	37. Harry

## Harry

                He hoped she was still awake because he didn’t have a key. When he knocked, Micaela answered, eyes squinting into the hall.

                “What Harry?”

                “I wanted to see Megan?”

                Her eyebrows creased together. “I think she’s asleep.”

                Harry ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t have time to waist. “And?”

                Micaela raised an eyebrow. “Why do you want to wake her up?”

                Harry glared at her. “Let me see Megan”

                Micaela rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

                She stepped aside to let him in. Quickly he walked, knowing they only had a few hours left together.

                She was still asleep, a small lump underneath the hotel sheets. Harry smiled, so happy she was here with him right now. He crossed to her bed quietly and carefully crawled in next to her, putting an arm around her.

                “Harry?” she wiggled underneath his arm, sleepy confusion coating her voice.

                “It’s me, love. Go back to sleep.”

                She creased her brow. “What are you doing here?”

                “Sleeping with you. Knowing you’re close makes it hard to sleep alone.”

                She smiled; he was so cheesy sometimes. “Okay.” She settled in next to him, falling asleep before he did.


	38. Zayn

## Zayn

                He hated cameras; noisy, irritating bastards who always went too far. They truly were his least favorite thin on the planet. At least there weren’t too many of them this morning, but there were enough to guarantee Micaela and Megan plenty of exposure. He had this irrational desire to hid Micaela’s face from the bright flashes, but she might scream rape or cause some other scene. Zayn’s eyes followed Micaela walking ahead of him with Liam. They hadn’t truly spoken since the delicious incident after the argument in the hall. She had wanted to say something, but then she’d gotten scared and ran out of the rom. He’d gone after her, but by the time he’d gotten to her room, the door blocked his way and she was on the phone. She’d been ignoring him and avoiding him ever since.

                Zayn grimaced. If he didn’t let her go soon, the hurt feelings inside him were going to overwhelm him. He’d tried to talk, but she’d turned it into an argument. Now it was too late.

                Micaela looked at him, her eyes betraying the certain war in her head. He laughed rather cynically to himself. There was no reason for her to be so torn; her choice should be so obvious. So many things he wanted to say to her, to ask her. The angry part of him wanted to turn and walk away, to her as much as she was hurting him, but the other part of him reminded him that he’d hurt her just like this earlier–even if it was unintentional.

                Zayn was distracted from his contemplation of Micaela by Megan’s question to Harry.

                “You said I didn’t just sleep with Harry Styles this week. What else did I do?”

                Harry held her in his arms with that adorable grin on his face. “You stole my heart.”

                Zayn shook his head. When Harry fell for someone he acted like an actor from a cheesy romantic comedy. Micaela was saying her good-byes. The hug she gave Zayn was awkward. She seemed to want to touch him as little as possible and what she did have to touch she wanted to touch it for as short a time as possible. One of those awkward hips out shoulders in affairs.

                The boarding call for their flight was announced. They began walking towards the plane. Zayn stuffed his hands in his pockets. What was he doing? She was going away again.

                Zayn crossed quickly towards them, but the flight attendants were going to stop him. “Micaela!”

                She had stiff, dyed red hair harisprayed in place. Waxy red lipstick calked on her lips was worn away where her tongue had licked it off. “Sir, do you have a ticket?”

                He gave the older woman an evil look. “Micaela!”

                “Sir, do you have a ticket?”

                He thought he saw her turn her head, but Liam was trying to keep him from making  a bigger scene. “C’mon Zayn.” If this had been a movie the attendant would have let him run to the girl he loved, she would have jumped into his arms and kissed him properly, not angrily, and it would have been a happily ever after. But this was not a movie, and her plane was pulling away.


	39. Micaela

## Micaela

                Rebecca Clancey stood in the doorway with her Barbie tucked in her arm. “Come play with me.”

                Micaela sat back on her heels. “No. It’s nap time.”

                Rebecca pouted, not a good look for a six year old. “I want to play Barbie’s.”

                Micaela wiped her sweaty forehead wither forearm. She used naptime to complete all the other things the Clanceys wanted her to do. Rebecca never wanted to nap; she wanted to play, but if she didn’t sleep she’d be cranky later and irritate her parents, which reflected poorly on Micaela. “Rebecca, I’ll play with you in twenty minutes. Go back to your room.”

                “Come with me.”

                Micaela bit her tongue. She was not supposed to raise her voice at these spoiled brats because their mother feared it would harm the psychologically. Bullshit. She hated her job. Why she ever agreed to it baffled her. She needed money and the Clanceys made her the best deal: a nice apartment and steady money. The best a not-even-a-high school graduate could hope for.

 “C’mon, Rebecca.” Micaela rose and took the little girl back to her room. The walls were supposed to be a soft pink, but every inch of them was plastered with posters of One Direction. It made Micaela’s stomach churn. She was trying to forget everything; it made life easier if she wasn’t plagued with bad memories. Rebecca busied herself pulling out dollhouses and more Barbie’s while Micaela watched from the doorway. “Play with me,” Rebecca demanded holding out a doll for Micaela to play with.

                “No. You need to rest.”

                Rebecca’s lip trembled. “I’m going to tell mommy.” Micaela closed the door on Rebecca’s petulant face. Mrs. Clancey would listen to her and the security cameras–these people were paranoid–would back her up. She needed to finish cleaning the bathrooms. This was by far the worst part of her job. Bathrooms were alien universes full of gross, disease spreading organisms. Micaela cursed under her breath. It was mostly her dad’s fault. He hadn’t tried to get her back into school when they’d come home. She was left without the credentials to get into college.

                Back on all fours, Micaela paused in her floor scrubbing and listened. Rebecca was blasting One Direction. Micaela ignored her. Megan had of course been keeping in touch with Delilah and Harry. They’d skyped a couple of times, but Micaela had ignored the requests to join them. She wanted to be with Zayn, she couldn’t deny that anymore, but this time she'd been the idiot who had left without saying goodbye. Maybe she was turning into one of those self-destructive people that took any chance of happiness away from herself.  She could feel approaching tears building up. She’d been crying a lot more lately; she needed to get a hold on herself.

                Micaela re-soaked the rag in her hand and tried to block out the music. Maybe she would talk to them today. Megan was planning on skyping later. Speaking of Megan, Micaela needed her to pick something up from the store.


	40. Megan

## Megan

                Her phone buzzed as she reached her car.

                **Micaela:** Can you get some stuff for dinner tonight? Don’t care what.

            Megan checked the time. She wasn’t expecting a call for a couple of hours. Micaela needed a pick me up. Ever since they’d been home from Australia she’d been in a bit of a funk, but she couldn’t help if Micaela refused to talk to him. Everyone thought she was being silly, but she needed to fix it now. 

                She pulled up to the store humming to herself. She grabbed a basket and wandered up and down the aisles trying to decide what she wanted for dinner and if Micaela would argue if she brought it home. Micaela may have said she didn’t care what they ate, but Micaela secretly did. She found herself in the magazine aisle. As always there were pictures of the boys smiling up at her and then…

                Very long legs slipping beneath a purple sweater dress; a shiny leather belt cinching in a tiny waist; red hair piled on top of a lovely, smiling, green-eyed face. His lips were on her cheek. Megan’s grip on her basket disappeared and it hit the ground with a loud bang. She reached for the glossy pages of the magazine, practically tearing them in her haste to get ho the story.

_Harry Styles’ New Girl?_

                It was a two page spread with pictures of her and Harry in Australia and Harry and this new girl in London. _I really, really like you…_ floated through her mind. That’s what he said when he gave her the promise ring. He never said that he loved her.

                “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone react to one of their pictures like that before.”

                Megan looked up from the shaking magazine in eh hands at the grocery store employee. He was smiling at her, his eyes doing the laughing form behind nerdy glasses. Megan liked his hair, thick and curly like…

                “I–it’s just–” Megan looked at the open magazine, not sure what to think.

                “Is that you?” the employee asked tapping a picture with her and Harry at the airport.

                “Yes.”

                Megan closed the magazine and dropped in her basket. “I should go.”

                They guy followed her to the check-out, chatting with her about something her brain couldn’t process at the moment.

                “Here you go.” He handed her two bags with a smile.

                “Thank you…” Megan found his nametag, “Jack.”

                “No problem.”

                He seemed to want to say something else, but Megan was in no state to ask him what was on his mind. The automatic door let her pass into a cold rain. She looked up at the sky with a bitter laugh. This romance movie couldn’t get any more cliché.

               

                Micaela was sitting on the couch when Megan walked in wet and pissed off.

                “What’s wrong?” Micaela asked.

                Megan ignored her and went to the kitchen. Micaela followed. “Did Darren do something?”

                Megan shook her head. “No. Out of sight, out of mind.” She laughed; that fact went both ways.

                Micaela assessed her friend. Something was obviously wrong, but what? On days when the boys would call, Megan couldn’t be happier, but now, fifteen minutes to go, she looked to be on the edge of a mental break down. Micaela took to groceries and put them all away, except the magazine she found.

                “Damn,” she muttered under her breath. Harry and some redhead were centered on the cover. No wonder Mean was upset. Micaela turned to the story. “Megs, there’s no way he’s going out with her. She was seen with Tom Daley last week.”

                “So? Celebrities rebound quickly.”

                “She’s just some model.”

                Megan turned on Micaela. “Exactly! She’s a _model_! How can I compare with that? Do you see her? She’s fucking perfect!”

                “Harry’s not just going to turn on a dime like that.”

                Megan laughed–an angry, bitter chuckle. “You said yourself he sleeps around.”

                “Yeah, the kid sleeps around when he isn’t seriously with anyone.”

                “We met and have spent all of one week together, Micaela. It’s not enough to be considered serious.”

                “Harry’s loyal to a fault when he wants to be.”

                “When he wants to be?”

                Micaela mentally slapped herself. “Yeah.”

                “Obviously he doesn’t want to be.”

                “Harry wouldn’t cheat on you. Look at the pictures of you tow together.”

                Megan slapped the magazine out of Micaela’s hands. “I don’t want to. Who’s side are you on anyway?”

                Micaela stared at her friend. “What kind of question is that?”

                “A valid one. First you’re telling me not to go anywhere near him, then you told me he’s okay. Now you’re siding with him, saying it’s okay he’s kissing this other girl.”

                “I’m not saying it’s okay. I’m just saying I don’t think he’s cheating on you.”

                “Pick a side!” Megan yelled as she stormed to her room. “And don’t pick a shitty one!”

                Micaela stood in the living room speechless. Megan slammed her room door and flopped on the bed. Micaela was being stupid. How could she side with Harry? How could Harry be cheating on her? Megan threw her pillow across the room. He was going to be calling her any second. What would she do? She wasn’t ready to talk to him…or see him for that matter.

                Micaela knocked and opened the door at the same time. Megan felt a stab of anger directed at her bipolar friend. “What. Do. You. Want?” she growled.

                “Who’s Jack Harries?”

                Megan’s brow furrowed. “Who?”

                “On the receipt for the groceries, some guy wrote his name and number on the receipt.”

                “Yeah…Jack,” Megan clumsily got off the bed. She took the receipt from Micaela and stared at the black ink at the bottom. Jack was a nice boy; maybe she should give him a call. Speaking of calling people…

                Megan stared at Micaela as they both heard ringing in the living room. The time had come for Megan to make a decision.


	41. Micaela

## Micaela

                The computer sat ringing on the coffee table when she dropped onto the couch. A scenario she’d been avoiding was about to begin and dread filled her stomach. She accepted the call.

                A moving picture came on of mostly five faces. Inside she smiled to herself; all five of them couldn’t fit into the web cam’s range. Harry was of course center stage, the left half of Louis’ face was next to him. Zayn’s eyes were to Harry’s left. She could see Niall’s nose and eyes and Liam’s mouth and chin, though he kept moving to get a better view.

                “Oh, hey, Micaela,” Harry said obviously not expecting to see her.

                “Hello boys.” She wasn’t about to hide her anger.

                Liam didn’t wanting a fight to start. “How have you been?”

                “Just fine, Liam. How are you?”

                This exchange began a few minutes of pleasantries, though they were strained on Micaela’s part.

                “Where’s Megan?” Harry finally asked.

                “Crying in her room.”

                “Why is she crying? What’s wrong?” Harry’s voice was colored with concern, but Micaela wasn’t going to forgive him so easily.

                “Oh, I don’t know. Her boyfriend was just kissing another girl as they were out shopping. Have you seen the pictures?” She held the magazine up so they camera focused on it. Harry swallowed hard. “Micaela, I can–”

                “Don’t start with me, Harry Styles. What are you doing? Megan loves you and I thought you loved her, but obviously not. What part of don’t hurt her did you not understand? Was Megan just a little fling? A nice girl you were stuck with for a week? A fan you thought you’d do something nice for? You’re about as bad as Darren.”

                Micaela crossed her arms over her chest. She was just able to control the anger shaking her body. She was mad a t having to talk to them and Harry was being such a jerk. She was starting to feel the same way she had before Australia.

                “Can I talk now?” Harry looked just as put out as she was.”

                “I’d love to hear what you have to say.”

                “She’s Louis’ best friend. We were shopping for his birthday present.”

                “Uh-huh.” Micaela wasn’t going to believe him. Why would harry need someone to help him buy Louis a gift?

                “You don’t believe me?”

                “Of course I don’t.” They were both leaning towards their computers as if they could hit each other if they get close enough.

                “Well it’s nice to see that you’re back to being a bitch,” Harry spat.

                Micaela smirked. “It’s nice to see that you’re back to being an ass.”

                Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m glad Zayn got out while he still could.”

                Micaela’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

                “He left before you could truly show yourself; he never had to deal with the bitter bitch I’m looking at.”

                Micaela held back the hot tears burning her eyes. “Fuck you, Harry.”

                “You wish.”


	42. Zayn

## Zayn

                Harry pushed angrily away from the desk and stormed off. No one seemed too eager to keep the call going, but no one was hanging up either. Zayn could see Micaela slumped against the couch. He looked at the others before sitting in front of the computer. The others were intelligent enough to give him his privacy; they didn’t want to witness another animated argument.

                “Hey.”

                Micaela’s eyes snapped to her computer. “Uh…hey.”

                “So…” Why did he always get into the situations without thinking about what he was going to say?

                “Did you all just hear that?” she asked.

                “Yeah.”

                “Oh, shit.” He smiled. When he first met her she wouldn’t swear. She certainly wouldn’t scream ‘Fuck you’. “What are you laughing at?” It was an accusation.

                “Nothing.”

                “Tell me.” That was a demand.

                “It’s just that it’s funny hearing you swear because you never did before.” She couldn’t possibly find anything insulting in that. Zayn was overcome by his desire to be cuddling her on the couch, whispering in her ear that everything was okay (the information in that magazine was bullshit) and kissing her cheek. Harry was wrong. This Micaela–the angry, bitter girl on the other side of the camera–was not really her. It was his, Zayn’s, fault; he knew it was. If he’d just said good bye or called her everything would be okay and they’d still be together and she wouldn’t be a nanny.  He hated that. She shouldn’t be caring for anyone’s kids but her own and those should be his kids. Zayn surprised himself with that thought, but it was true. He only wanted to have kids with Micaela. As she’d have said a long time ago: he wanted them to get married and have twenty kids.

                “What are you thinking about?”

                Zayn refocused on the camera. “Pardon?”

                “Don’t look so innocent. You were thinking very intently about something.”

                “You’ll get mad if I tell you.”

                Micaela rolled her eyes. “Please tell me.”

                “Promise you won’t get mad?”

                “Yes, I promise.”

                That was not a serious promise, but if he pushed I more she might pick a fight. “I was thinking about us.”

                “Oh.” She wouldn’t look right at the camera. She was debating something. He thought she looked close to tears.

                “I’ve been thinking about us too.”

                That he wasn’t’ expecting. Maybe she was done being mad at him. “What have you thought about?”

                “This…that…and the other.”

                “C’mon, tell me.”

                “Tell me what you were thinking about.”

                “I asked you first.”

                “Zayn…” She rolled her eyes. He smiled. This was how he liked her, relaxed and happy.

                “Harry was wrong,” Zayn said.

                “What?”

                “This isn’t who you are. It’s my fault you’re angry all the time. If I hadn’t been an idiot we’d be together.”

                “Well it’s not all your fault.”

                Zayn looked at her funny. “So you admit you’ve been wrong?”

                “I haven’t been wrong to be mad; you just haven’t been the only one.”

                “What are you saying?” Suspicion coloring his voice.

                “Don’t be silly, Zayn. You can’t imagine I’ve stayed single this entire time.”

                She ended the call before he had time to process what she’d said. Had she really seen other people? Zayn’s jealousy radiated off him in violent waves. A guy would have to be an idiot not to be attracted to Micaela, but he’d expected more from her. He’d been single for the past three years and for some reason he thought she had been too. He thought they’d had that it thing; that thing that would keep them together forever. Zayn shook his head. He was starting to sound like a love struck Harry.


	43. Micaela and Megan

## Micaela and Megan

                “Shit!” Micaela screamed into her pillow after she’d ended the call.

                “What?” Megan asked.

                “You should’ve seen his face! It was like I kicked him in his fucking balls!”

                Megan slowly took a seat on the other end of the couch. “What are you talking about?”

                “I told Zayn that I’ve been seeing other people.”

                Megan’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

                “I’m an idiot.”

                Both girls turned their heads as someone knocked on their door. Before Megan could stop an angry Micaela from answering, her friend was yanking open the door. “What?”

                “Don’t take that tone with me, young lady! I’m the one who should be pissed.”

                A very put out redhead stood in their doorway. An old magazine was clenched in her fist. Micaela eyed the glossy cover and muttered, “Damn it.” A picture of Zayn’s smug face and her butt was the main picture.

                “You both have some explaining to do,” the redhead said.

                “Hey, Lizzie,” Megan greeted pulling Micaela away from the door. “You’ll probably want to sit down.”

                Lizzie came in and flopped on the couch. “I go on a long ass mission trip to rural Russia and you two party in Australia–in the sunshine–with One Direction.”

                Micaela smirked. “I told you not to go.”

                Lizzie gave her a look. “Yeah, because I might get some incurable disease or thrown in a furnace.”

                Micaela threw up her hands. “They’re practically communist still. Different people,” she pointed at her friends red hair, “aren’t welcome.”

                “Pft. I met some of the cutest kids while I was over there, not as cute as One Direction of course, but cute enough.”

                Micaela rolled her eyes.

                Lizzie pulled Megan into the seat next to her. “Story time. How did you get to spend some very personal,” she looked at Micaela, “time with the boys?”

                Micaela shrugged and left the story telling to Megan.

                “I guess it started when Niall decided to fly Delilah down for his birthday. She didn’t want to go that far alone and so she invited me. I didn’t want to go alone either so I invited Micaela.”

                “Pause,” Lizzie said. She turned to Micaela. “Delilah’s real? She’s not some fat guy drooling over his computer?”

                Micaela rolled her eyes. “You missed a lot.”

                “Anyway,” Megan continued. “We flew down to Australia and hung out with them for a while. The end.”

                Lizzie flipped through the magazine. “Explain these.” She pointed at pictures of Micaela and Megan with Zayn and Harry.

                “Your turn Mickey-D”

                Micaela sighed. “Megan and Harry fell in love, though now I may have to kill him. Zayn and I were in love, kind of made up in Australia, and now we’re back to fighting.”

                “The whole ‘in Australia’ part sounds like you knew him before.”             

                “I knew all of them before. We were friends when I lived in London a long time ago.”

                Lizzie fell back against the couch. “Wow.”

                “That’s what I said.” Megan laughed.

                “Why does Micaela have to kill Harry?”

                “You haven’t seen this yet.” Megan picked up today’s magazine and handed it to Lizzie. The redhead looked it over. “Oh.”

                “It’s only been six months. “Megan said quietly.

                “But you guys have been talking right?”

                “Practically every day. He just skyped.”

                Lizzie frowned. “What did you say?”

                Megan shook her head. “I didn’t speak to them. Micaela did.”

                Lizzie turned to Micaela. “What did _you_ say?”

                “Fuck you.”

                Lizzie’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

                “I said ‘Fuck you, Harry Styles’ and he said ‘You wish’ and then I talked to Zayn.”

                “What did you and Zayn talk about?”

                “Nothing important.” Micaela got up from the couch and hid in her bedroom.

                Megan and Lizzie watched her go. Megan stacked the magazines on the coffee table.  Micaela had been doing well the last few months; no nightmares, no wrist cutting, but she was more closed than before. Sure she was crying more, but that just made her more defensive and less talkative. Megan had been perfectly fine to coexist with her as long as Micaela didn’t pop her bubble of bliss. Delilah wanted to execute some elaborate reunification of Zayn and Micaela (she even had a couple name for them: Micayn) but Megan knew that it wouldn’t work; Micaela didn’t fall for things like that and she’d fight back harder if she felt forced.

                She had other things to worry about; mainly Harry’s girl. Why would he do that? But if he could do it, so could she. Megan wasn’t one for being bitter, but she could be vengeful.

                “What’s that look for?” Lizzie asked.

                “Harry’s going to know exactly how I feel,” Megan got off the couch. “Micaela, I need you help!”

                Lizzie followed Megan to Micaela’s room. The two barged in on a teary eyed Micaela.

                “What do you need my help with?”

                “I want to make Harry jealous,” Megan announced.

                “How?”

                “I’ll spend time with Jack.”

                “Who’s Jack?” Lizzie asked.

                “This guy from the store,” Megan said. “Will you help me?”

                “Sure.”

                “What exactly are you planning on doing?” Lizzie asked. “And how is Harry going to find out about this Jack character?”

                Megan turned on Micaela’s iPod; music helped her think things through.

                “…breaking all the promises I wasn’t around to keep…”

                Megan stared at Micaela. “The Jonas Brothers? Really?”

                Micaela pounded on the off button. “Yes, really.”


	44. Danielle and Liam

## Danielle and Liam

                Danielle made one last adjustment to the plate in front of her before letting Liam take off the blindfold. “Tah-dah!” she exclaimed. There were two rows of five plates on the coffee table in front of him. Each plate had a slice of cake on it; all different flavors, all different designs.

                “We have to try all of these?” Liam asked.

                Danielle nodded. “Yes. The cake has to be perfect.” She handed him a fork with a mischievous smile.

                “What’s that look for?” he asked.

                “What look?” she replied too innocently.

                Liam knew she had something up her sleeve; he’d have to wait to find out. He took a piece of the slice of cake in front of him. The pinkish yellow color of the cake part made him wary, and for good reason. This piece was some strawberry banana concoction with too-sweet frosting. “That’s disgusting,” he grimaced.

                Danielle took a bite. “Hmm…you’re right.” She scratched a name off her list. “Try this one.” She offered him a chocolate bite with mint green frosting. “Tastes good to me,” he said. She took a bite and slowly cleaned off the excess frosting from her fork by drawing it slowly out of her mouth.  Liam couldn’t help but stare. She was going to make this twice as torturous for him.

               

                Ten pieces of cake and lots of frosting licking later, they decided on the chocolate cake with mint green frosting. Danielle went to place the order while Liam cleared the coffee table. He stood by the sink listening to Danielle talk. He was happy he and the boys had gotten a break, even though their busy lives began again shortly after the wedding. Danielle looked over at him as she shook her head, rolling her eyes at the person on the phone. He’d marry her tonight, but she was insisting on a wedding. She finished with the phone and walked up to him. “What are you looking at?”

                “You.”

                “I know you’re looking at me, Liam, but _what_ are you looking at?”

                “Your lips, your eyes, your hair.” Liam stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I’m looking at a lot of things.” She smiled and giggled quietly. He bent his head to kiss her lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck as her legs locked around his waist. She loved when he held her up like this, when his hands ran up and down the backs of her legs. He started walking to their bedroom as he kissed her deeply; she felt like she was melting. He stretched her out beneath him. His hands crept beneath her clothes, but he was teasing her.

                “Liam…” she growled.

                He chuckled as his lips moved against hers.


	45. Louis and Eleanor

## Louis and Eleanor

                Eleanor stood in front of Daniele with a scowl on her face. “I will not walk down the aisle in this.” Danielle snickered at her friend. Eleanor tried in vain to flatten out the voluminous ruffles on the possible bridesmaid’s dress. It had a tight bodice, which Eleanor liked, but the floor length skirt was layers of ruffles that swallowed her up. Plus it was an awful carrot color. “You can’t seriously like this, Dani.”

                “Don’t worry. I don’t. I just wanted to see your reaction.”

                Eleanor muttered something under her breath and stomped into the dressing room. Danielle checked her phone while she waited.

                Eleanor put on the next dress. It was a lavender color and skin tight. She like it immediately. Danielle assessed her as he posed and spun.

                “You certainly like it,” Danielle said. Eleanor grinned and nodded. “Can I show Louis?”

                “I haven’t decided if I like it for all my bridesmaids,” Danielle said.

                “Who wouldn’t love it?”

                “Tiffany.”

                Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Tiffany can get over it.”

                “Con you put on the violet one?” Danielle asked.

                Eleanor shuffled to the dressing room again. The violet one was looser than the lavender one and Eleanor had to admit she like it better than the lavender one. She twirled in the dressing room loving the way the skirt billowed out. Danielle smiled when she emerged.

                “I like this one better.”

                “Me too,” Eleanor agreed.

“Go ahead and show Louis,” Danielle said.

 

                Louis moved away from admiring his reflection as his phone vibrated. “They picked out the bridesmaid dresses,” he told the others passing around the picture.

                Harry merely glanced at the picture; he was too caught up with his. There were pictures of Megan with this guy posted. He could feel jealousy and hurt boiling inside of him. Megan didn’t really believe that magazine did she?

                “What’s wrong, Harry?” Liam asked.

                “I have to go,” Harry mumbled. He shrugged out of the suit and headed for the door.

                “Go where?” Louis called after him.

                “Chicago.”

                “But what about–”

                “I’ll be back in time.”

                Louis turned to the others. “Why does he need to go to Chicago?”

                Niall shrugged. “Megan maybe. Zayn should go with.”

                “Why?” Zayn snapped.

                Niall looked at Louis who looked at Liam who shrugged and shook his head. People could be idiots; what could they do?


	46. Harry and Megan

## Harry and Megan

                The plane actually arrived early which meant that not all the paparazzi had arrived yet. Those that were there were of course making a big fuss over him and drawing a lot of attention. He hadn’t really thought this endeavor all the way through; it was just something he had to do.

                “What are you doing here by yourself, Harry?” someone shouted.

                They didn’t need to know; they’d harass Megan if he told them.

                “Where are the others?”

                “How long are you here?”

                “Where are you–?”

                Harry cut off the torrent of questions by closing the cab door. He told them driver the address and was off.

 

                The spinner rattled to a stop. “Ten,” Megan murmured picking up her blue car, counting the spaces. “Have twins.”

                Jack handed her two boys for her to put in her car.

                “What are their names?” Lizzie asked.

                “Why do I need to give them names?”

                “Because they’re your kids.”

                Megan rolled her eyes. “Fine. Thing One and Thing Two.”

                Jack chuckled and now Lizzie rolled her eyes.

                “Micaela! It’s your turn!” Megan shouted.

                Micaela came back from the kitchen with some chips and soda. She spun the spinner and moved her car accordingly. “Run for–”

                Someone knocked on the door. Megan got up to peer through the peephole. Her stomach flipped and her eyes stung. “Oh, God.”

                “What?” Lizzie asked.

                “It’s not Darren, is it?” Micaela groaned.

                Megan turned from the door. “It’s not Darren.” Micaela’s eyes met hers and Megan prayed her friend got the message.

                “Who is it, Megan?” Jack asked.

                Megan was unable to think straight; her brain told her to send the person away while her heart told her to forgive and forget. She really didn’t know which one to listen to.

                Lizzie lost her patience and went to see who was at the door. “Holy Mary Mother of God.” She turned to the others with wide eyes. “It’s Harry!” she squeaked.

                Micaela made the call. “Jack, Lizzie let’s go to another room. Megan, get the door.”

                “But, Micaela…”

                “Get the door, Megs.”

                Megan opened the door. “Hello, Harry.”

                He smiled. “Hey, Megan.”

                “What are you doing here?”

                “It’s a long story.” He was hoping she’d let him in, but she stubbornly stayed in his way.

                Megan glanced at the watch she didn’t actually have on. “I have time.”

                If he wanted in, he’d have to ask, “Can I come in?”

                She hesitated; if she let him in–both metaphorically and literally–she’d have to forgive him and take him back because it was Harry Styles and she loved him, even if he was an idiot sometimes. “I guess.”

                Megan stepped aside so Harry could come in. It was a nicer apartment then he had imagined. It wasn’t like he was expecting it to be run down or in a slum or anything like that, but this felt more like a house than an apartment. Harry took a seat on the couch and smiled at the coffee table. “The Game of Life?”

                “It’s Micaela’s favorite game. She insisted we play it before we went to the movies.”

                “She brought it with her to London. We played it all the time. She kept a notebook full of family trees.”

                They both smiled; Micaela was an odd creature.

                “So why are you here, Harry?”

                He ran a hand nervously through his hair. “I was getting a tux for the wedding and I was…” He looked up at the ceiling searching for a non-creepy way of saying it, but he drew a blank. “I was stalking your Facebook and I saw pictures of you with this guy and he had an arm around your shoulders and I got jealous. So I flew over to talk to you because we haven’t talked in ages and I want to know who he is.”

                Megan looked at him carefully. She could let a nice boy put an arm around her if she wanted to. Besides they were only spending time with Jack for Harry’s jealousy anyway, though Megan had some suspicions that Jack and Lizzie were falling for each other.

                “Jack is just a friend,” Megan said. “Who was the redhead?” she asked quietly.

                “The redhead?”

                “The girl who’s cheek you were kissing on the front of the magazine.”

                “Oh, Darcy. She’s Louis’ best friend. We were buying him a birthday present.”

                “Why did you kiss her cheek?”

                Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I felt like it.”

                Megan’s eyes glared at him. “So you just felt like kissing another girl in front of a bunch of cameras? You didn’t think ‘Wow. Megan might get the wrong idea if she sees this’?”

                “No. I trust you and I thought you trusted me.”

                “I did and I think I still do, but you can’t just do things because you feel like it. At least not with girls.”

                Harry’s jaw clenched. She wasn’t listening. He’d never do anything with Darcy; she’d gone and had tea with Louis. Why couldn’t Mean understand that he would never do that to her?

                “Megan, I–”

                Megan stood abruptly. “Shouldn’t you be working or something?” She was pacing in front of him. “I’m confused, but not really I guess, because you only said you liked me when you gave me this.” She took off the ring he gave her and held it between her index finger and thumb. He stared at the ring. Their eyes met for a moment. He thought he saw tears.

                “Megan,” he stood up and came to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. She looked off to the side, scared if she looked in his eyes she’d just forgive him on the spot. “Megan,” he murmured. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you now. I can’t,” he cleared his throat. “I can’t imagine living without your smile.” Megan couldn’t help the small one that curved her mouth. “Or the way you laugh at my corny jokes. I can’t remember ever hurting physically when I’ve been away from someone like when I’m away from you.” He fell silent, letting his words sink in. He wanted her to look at him so he could see her eyes so he could see his love reflected back at him.

                Megan took a deep breath. She wanted to believe him, to forgive him. She loved him so much; she’d been hurting these last few months too. Harry placed a gentle hand on her chin and brought her face around.

                “Maybe I should move here,” he said.

                Megan’s eyes grew wide. “What?”

                “I thought I’d move here, to Chicago, so we could be together all the time.”

                Megan grabbed his hands. “No, Harry. That’s ridiculous. You don’t have to move. You have the boys and work…You’d do that for me?”

                Harry grinned. “Of course, baby.”

                Megan blinked her eyes slowly, accepted that information, and continued, “I’ll move to London. I’ve always wanted to and now I have an even better reason to move.”

                “I don’t want to uproot you, sweetheart.” She looked up at him. “Don’t worry about that. I’m with you, how could I not be fine? I love you.”

                “I love you too,” he murmured before kissing her. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted her into his arms.

                “My room is down the hall,” she whispered.

                Harry smiled against her lips. “Rather forward are we?”

                She tugged on his hair, which got him moving down the hall. He almost passed her room, but she was paying enough attention to grab her doorknob and get them inside. Her head fell against the pillows as they tumbled onto her bed. He settled between her legs as his hands roved beneath her shirt. It’d been so long since someone had touched her like Harry was touching her and she couldn’t hide how good it was making her feel. She kept sighing and moaning as Harry kept kissing and touching her. She could feel him getting harder between her legs which just made her want him more. She fumbled with his jeans. Harry chuckled as he captured her hands in his and pinned them above her head.

                “I flew all the way from London to get you back; we’re not going to be rushing anything.”


	47. Niall and Delilah

## Niall and Delilah

                Delilah yawned and stretched as gray light slipped between the curtains. She sat up rubbing her eyes and twisted to see where Niall was. Discovering she was in the bedroom alone, she pulled on his sweatpants and one of her t-shirts before going out to the living room. Niall wasn’t there either; but she could hear things moving in the kitchen. Delilah’s eyes opened wide. “We’re standing naked in the kitchen why?”

                Niall turned to her with a smirk. He looked down at his body seeming to be shocked by his own nudity. “Why not?”

                Delilah shook her head and leaned against the wall with a smile. “You’re nuts.”

                He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Want some breakfast?” He lifted the pan off the stove; bacon sizzled inside. “There are waffles too.” He pointed to the counter where a fresh stack of waffles sat.

                “Please tell me you haven’t been cooking naked.”

                “Why would I put clothes on only to take them off again?”

                Niall put the pan down as he walked towards her. “I’m not particularly hungry right now.”

                She rolled her eyes and giggled. “Then why make all this food?”

                “I thought you’d be hungry.”

                “Out of the two of us, you’re usually the one that’s hungry.”

                “That’s true,” he murmured leaning in for a kiss. He was denied when Delilah ducked around him and grabbed a plate saying, “I am hungry though.” She put a waffle on her plate along a few strips of bacon. She poured syrup over her waffles and took her plate to the table. “Could you pour me some orange juice?”

                Niall stared at her a few moments longer before registering her request. Delilah smiled as she listened to him pour her juice; this was going to be fun.

                He set the glass in front of her.

                “Thank you, sweetie.”

                Niall leaned in for another attempt at a kiss, but she took a sip of orange juice instead.

                “Babe,” he growled putting his hands on her shoulders.

                “What?” she asked cutting a piece of waffle. As she ate, she let a small moan slip from her throat. She closed her eyes and sighed in satisfaction. “Oh baby that’s good.”

                “All that for a little bit of waffle?” Niall muttered.

                Delilah looked up at him. “Have I ever told you how great a cook you are?”

                “I don’t remember. Have you?”

                She leaned her head against his chest. “I think I have.”

                This time Niall would not be denied a kiss, but he was given only a peck because she went back to her waffle. This time, the moaning and sighing was a little more dramatic. Niall muttered something Delilah couldn’t quite catch. “What was–”

                He captured her mouth with his and refused to let her go. His tongue slipped into her mouth which produced another moan. She was being easy today; he usually had to work harder than this. She twisted around in her seat and got on her knees so their chests were pressed together. His hands trailed down her back and cupped her ass. From her ass, they traveled to her thighs and then she was out of the chair.

                She wrapped her legs around him as he carried her to the living room. They fell onto the couch as the kiss became more aggressive. His hands roved under her shirt, massaging her breasts. Delilah twisted her fingers in his hair, biting his bottom lip. Niall found the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head. His attention turned to her–well his­–pants. Her hand sought to distract him. It managed to for a moment when it brushed below the belt. His head dropped next to her ear and his hot breath on her neck drove her nuts. She could feel him hardening in her hand.

                “Oh, God,” he groaned.

                He reluctantly pulled her hand away so he could get her completely naked beneath him. He gave her a hungry, lustful once over before attacking her lips with his. His hands dug into her hips and raised them to his. He thrust inside of her. Delilah’s head tipped back and her mouth hung open. He felt so good inside of her. He worked her slowly, methodically until she thought she was going to die from ecstasy. With a final push, Niall sent them both over the edge. Delilah held onto him tightly as she was overcome by waves of pleasure. He continued to kiss her, slower, more gentle.

                “Are you going to eat the rest of that waffle, little bird?”

                She stared at him. “How can you possibly be thinking about food?”

                He grinned. “Making love with you works up an appetite.”


	48. Micaela and Megan

Micaela and Megan  
“I need to go shopping,” Megan announced.  
“Why?” Micaela asked, turning from the mirror.  
“Are you going to wear that for the wedding?” Megan asked. Micaela was wearing a tight silk purple dress with a lace overlay that added long sleeves and exposed the tops of her shoulders and her neck. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” Micaela murmured looking back at the mirror. “What are you going to wear?”  
“That’s why I need to go shopping. I don’t have anything to wear.”  
“What about that blue dress you bought a couple of weeks ago?”  
“I don’t know. Do you think Harry would like it?”  
Micaela rolled her eyes. “Harry will like anything you wear, Megs.”  
“I just…don’t know.” Megan eyed Micaela jealously. Her friend could pull off anything, even skin tight cocktail dresses.  
“Don’t look at me like that,” Micaela warned. She took her friend’s hand and went into Megan’s room. “Put on the dress.”  
“No.”  
“Don’t make me do it,” Micaela sighed with her hands on her hips.  
“Do what?”  
“Forcibly dress you; sew you into that dress so Harry can see his beautiful girlfriend in it.”  
Megan rolled her eyes. “You won’t do that.”  
“Wanna bet?”  
Megan caved (her friend would probably find some way to do that) and put on the dress. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. She looked better than she thought she would.  
“You should definitely wear that. You look beautiful.”  
Megan stared at her mirror. “I don’t know.”  
“Just put the dress in your bag and finish packing. We have a long flight ahead of us.”  
“Are you sure it’s good enough?”  
“Megan, pack the dress.” Micaela walked out of the room.  
“Wow, bossy much,” Megan mumbled to herself.  
“I heard that!” Micaela called.

He was leaning very casually against his black range rover with sunglasses on. Megan tried to act as calmly as she could, but she couldn’t help the huge smile on her face. Mean picked up the pace so Micaela, even though she was a fast walker, had to jog to keep up.  
“Megan, he’s not going anywhere without you.”  
“Don’t be grumpy, Micaela.”  
“Don’t walk so fast.”  
“You’re being grumpy,” Megan warned in a sing-song voice as they reached Harry and the car.  
“Are we late for something, my dear?” he teased.  
“No. I’ve just missed you.” She let go of her suitcase and threw her arms around his neck. He held her tight against him, conscious that he had an audience. Harry let go of Mean, gave her a quick pick, and hugged Micaela.  
“Was your flight good?” he asked taking their bags.  
“It was fine,” they replied at the same time. The girls looked at each other and burst into laughter. “We spend way too much time together,” Micaela sighed.  
Harry shook his head and opened Megan’s door. She climbed in. Harry stopped Micaela before she got in back. “I’m sorry for what I said last time we talked.” She patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, Harry.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and got in the car.


	49. Liam and Danielle

## Liam and Danielle

                The strains of _Here Comes the Bride_ filled the church. Liam looked up as the doors revealed Danielle and her father. His eyes opened wide and he could feel the pricking of tears. She was so beautiful, like an angel sent just for him. Her dad beamed as he walked his daughter towards her groom. Danielle kept making attempts at deep breaths to keep her tears under control, but her joy was barely containable. They’d been waiting so long for this day and it was finally here.

                Liam had to fight the urge to lift her veil and kiss her and tell her how beautiful she looked. Her dad shook his hand before he took a seat next to Danielle’s mother. Danielle handed her bouquet to her maid of honor and took Liam’s hands.

                “You may be seated,” the minister said to the audience. Everyone took a seat. Danielle looked at Liam who was looking back at her. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the holy union of Liam Payne and Danielle Peazer.”

 

                “Ladies and gentlemen, please rise and put your hands together for Mr. and Mrs. Liam Payne!”

                They walked in smiling and holding hands. Their guests cheered and clapped while cameras flashed madly. Liam whispered, “I love you,” as they made their way into the room. As a song started he put a hand on the small of her back and led her to the middle of the dance floor. She put her arms around his neck as they started to slow dance. Their foreheads rested against each other so they murmur without anyone else hearing. Not that they were necessarily murmuring about anything, but they wouldn’t be heard if they were.

                Danielle rested her head against his chest. She could hear his heart beating. She smiled, feeling completely at peace with the word. Liam could smell the hairspray in her hair which he smiled at. It didn’t smell bad or make her hair crunchy, it just made him smile. Her head on his chest made him aware of her, aware of Mrs. Danielle Payne. She was his wife and no one would ever take her away from him; no one would ever hurt her again.

                His hand pressed harder into her back. She raised her head to look at him with a question in her eyes. He brushed his lips over her temple, letting her know it was nothing. She pressed her lips lightly against his as the music came to a close.

                The couple looked around themselves in shock as their guests applauded; they’d forgotten they were surrounded by friends and family. Danielle smiled at Liam who grinned back.

                “I love you,” he whispered.

                “Not as much as I love you,” she returned.

                Liam cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”


	50. Harry and Megan

## Harry and Megan

                The reception was held at a grand manor house in the English countryside. There were tables spread over the back patio and on the grass around a dance floor underneath a canopy of lights. The weather was warmer than expected and luckily dry.

                Megan followed Harry’s eyes across the dance floor. A tall girl with bright red hair was the subject of his gaze. He waved her over to the table.

                “You can’t hate her once you get to know her,” Harry said.

                “I don’t necessarily hate her,” Megan said taking a sip of her drink. “I just don’t necessarily trust her.”

                “Hello, Harry,” the redhead greeted.

                “Hey, Darcy,” Harry returned taking Megan’s hand. “This is Megan.”

                Darcy turned her face to the girl next to Harry. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Harry talks of almost nothing else.”

                Megan blushed. “It’s nice to meet you.” She had heard next to nothing about Darcy, so she couldn’t reciprocate Darcy’s exact feelings.

                “Harry, have you seen Tom? I lost him. Again.”

                Harry twisted around in his seat to sweep his eyes through the crowd. “No. I think I saw him go inside a few minutes ago.”

                “Thanks.” She drifted away, stopping to greet a few of the other guests.

                “She’s not awful,” Megan mumbled.

                Harry kissed her cheek. “Told you so.”

                “Who’s Tom?”

                Harry looked at her, mildly surprised. “Tom Daley. Darcy’s been seeing him for a while now.”

                “I’m sorry.”

                Harry raised his eyebrow. “For what?”

                Megan looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. “I should’ve trusted you and not freaked out because of that magazine.” She felt her cheeks get hot; she’d been such an overdramatic idiot.

                “We’ve been over this, love. There’s no need to keep apologizing.”

                “I know, but I still feel bad sometimes.”

                Harry leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Don’t.” They sat in silence for a few moments before Harry asked, “Would you like to dance?” He didn’t wait for an answer–he highly doubted she’d say no–before pulling her onto the dance floor. His arms held her waist while hers held his neck and they danced. Their bodies were very close together, occasionally rubbing against each other as they moved. The music softened to the end and the DJ made an announcement.

                “Direct your attention to the table under the lights, ladies and gentlemen. Liam and Danielle will be cutting the cake.”

                Megan and Harry simply turned their heads to the cake. They didn’t want to let go of each other. As Liam and Danielle sliced the cake, Harry’s hand slipped off Megan’s back and landed on her ass.

                “If you don’t remove your hand from my ass, I’ll…” Megan made the mistake of looking up at his face which made her lose her train of thought.

                “You’ll what?” he challenged putting his other hand down there. She stared up at his cheeky grin.


	51. Micaela

## Micaela

                Liam rubbed the back of his head as Danielle waited expectantly in the chair before him. Micaela smiled to herself; poor Liam. His friends were laughing and being obnoxious and there was only one way to get them to be quiet. Liam got on his knees before Danielle and went up her skirt to get the garter. Danielle laughed when Liam came out with it in his teeth, his face slightly pink. Micaela turned her attention from the crowd to the corner of the envelope sticking out from under her plate. It’d been there when she arrived, but she hadn’t been brave enough to open it; now she was.

                Micaela slid the envelope out and pulled out the papers inside.

_Dear Micaela,_

_We can’t seem to be able to talk without fighting so I thought a letter would be nice. Then I was too busy to send it, so I waited until now to give it to you._

_Hurting you was never my intention when I left three years ago. I thought by not saying goodbye, it’d leave our relationship open and it wouldn’t feel like we were apart. That sounds stupid, and I realized how stupid it was twenty seconds after I left. I wanted nothing more than to turn the car around and get back in bed with you, but my mom was driving, and she was adamant about me auditioning._

_I thought of you every day and every night. Any extra time I had to call you got taken away by sleep or other contestants being on the phone. I tried to send you a birthday card along with a letter, but it came back to me. I thought you wanted us to be over, but Megan told me that your dad got you and then I got mad at myself for not being there to protect you._

_When I saw you in Australia, the hole in my heart was partially filled, but then I saw what I did to you and the hole practically doubled in size because of the guilt. That week, I was actually a little happy. I haven’t stopped loving you, Mickey Mouse. Please come back._

_Love,_

_Zayn_

                Micaela held the note in her hand, re-reading the last few lines again. In her lap were an old sixteenth birthday card and the original letter she never got. She looked at each of them carefully, as if they were fragile and could shatter into a million pieces if she handled them poorly. After reading the letter she never got, Micaela discovered a third thing in her lap. Her breath caught in her throat.

                Half a picture of a girl blushing with her arm linked through someone’s in the missing half. Thick green trees surround her on a mist morning walk. The picture began to shake with Micaela’s hand. Her mind was racing and her eyes were watering. The physical pain of separation she’d been repressing for years blossomed again, brighter and bigger than before. Vivid memories–waking up alone, her father’s grip on her arm, the many sleepless nights–crashed through her mind. She looked up from her table at a lonely boy at an empty table across the patio and she swore her heart stopped. He was all she ever wanted and she forgave him.

                “You’re not going to sit here all alone the entire night are you?”

                Micaela looked up at Louis with a smile. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

                He dropped into the seat next to her. “What’s that?” He pointed at the half picture in her hand.

                “Remember that day when we all went for a walk in that park and Harry was taking way to many pictures?” Louis nodded. “Well, he took one of me and Zayn and when Zayn left he tore it in half and left me the one with him in it.”

                “Are you going to get back together with him?” Louis asked quietly.

                Micaela ran a hand through her hair. “I want to, but I don’t know if…” she trailed off. What didn’t she know? Zayn wanted her back and she wanted him.

                “Don’t know what?”

                “How. I don’t know how.”

                “Talking is always useful and one of the more conventional ways of getting back together with someone.”

                Micaela looked at the boy sitting by himself.

                “Of course, you have to remember talking isn’t the same as arguing,” Louis reminded her.


	52. Louis and Eleanor

## Louis and Eleanor

                Louis got up from Micaela’s table to find Eleanor. He last saw her talking to Danielle eating a piece of cake. Now she was dancing with Delilah. He took a moment to watch her with a smile. Nothing in the world would ever make him happier than waking up next to her and trying not to laugh at her bedhead, though he always failed miserably. She always pretended to be insulted and laughed with him after she looked in the mirror.

                He walked towards them. “Hello, ladies,” he greeted.

                Eleanor grabbed his hands. “Dance with us!” She sucked him in and the trio spent a few minutes dancing. He finally managed to pull her away once a few songs passed.

                There was a rather large garden adjacent to the house with paths and benches for visitors. Louis led Eleanor to this garden for some quiet alone time together. She took his hand as they entered. She couldn’t help but smile.

                “Do you remember that time we went to spend Christmas eve at your house and your little brother spilled his cold hot chocolate all over me?”

                Eleanor started to laugh. “Yes. My mom freaked out and you had to calm her down.”

                “Your brother was so embarrassed,” Louis chuckled.

                She squeezed his hands. “I think that’s the day started loving you.”

                “You didn’t love me before?”

                “No, I did. I mean I enjoyed your company and thought you were a great person and all, but that night was when I began truly really loving you. That’s the day I wanted to chase after your car and make you stay with me.”

                “Well I’m glad you didn’t chase me that night. You would’ve gotten frost bite.”

                They were quiet for a spell, the moonlight bathing the flowers in a silver sheen.

                “I started to love you when you slept over at Zayn’s house so Boris wouldn’t be alone. I freaked out when you weren’t at your house that morning and then when I found out where you were and you answered all my questions as if your location was obvious…maybe I loved you before that and freaking out because I couldn’t find you made me realize how much I loved you.”

                They took a seat on a bench next to a greenhouse. Eleanor shivered as a cool breeze drifted past. Louis shrugged off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. He buttoned he first button so it stayed around her and held her close to him. She rested her head on his chest and traced patterns over his shirt with her finger. The music and voices from the party barely reached them so they enjoyed a little quiet, peaceful time to themselves.


	53. Zayn

## Zayn

                She slipped down the stairs without anyone but him noticing. She was headed for the kitchen which he assumed she knew was empty. He waited a few minutes before following her. She had read his letters and she’d smiled; he hoped those were good omens. At the bottom of the stairs, Zayn stopped to listen for any extra voices. Confident they were alone. Zayn went into the kitchen.

                She was sitting on a silver island with his letters on either side of her and the picture in her hand. He couldn’t see her face because of the dark waves of hair in front of it, but her little body was perfectly clear to him. She looked adorable, slouched over the picture, her bare feet swinging back and forth.

                “I thought I’d find you here.” His hands stuffed in his pockets, Zayn walked over to her.

                “You’re such an ass,” she mumbled.

                “I know,” he murmured.

                Micaela was still looking at the picture. Zayn tucked her hair behind her ears so he could get a semi-clear view of her face. He wanted to kiss her, hold her, but now wasn’t the best time; now was the time for talking.

                Micaela looked up at him for the first time. She seemed calm and resolved. Zayn gave her a small smile, unsure if he should speak first or if she would.

                “There haven’t been any others,” she said looking back down at the picture.

                “What?”

                She looked back up at him. “I haven’t dated anyone else since you left. I just said that because…I don’t actually have a good reason for saying that. I was mad at Harry and I took it out on you.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

                He knew she’d been lying, but a small part of him had obsessed over it; not knowing for sure if she said it to wound or to tell the truth. “It’s okay,” he told her.

                “No it’s not!” She grabbed one of his letters. “You’ve been trying to fix us since Australia and I’ve been a bitter, angry bitch.” She stared at the paper in her hands, rereading a part. She put the letter down and covered her eyes. “I’m sorry.” Zayn knew it was always best to let Micaela work through her self-blame by herself, but she just looked so helpless that he had to step in.

                “Look at me.” He took her hands in one of his and lifted her chin with the other. “We both made mistakes. This is not all your fault. I’m the one who left and started the whole thing. Please don’t blame yourself for everything.” His body pressed against her knees. She opened her legs so he could stand between them. (Her dress being so tight the skirt slid up, exposing practically her entire leg.)

                “I thought you were making breakfast when I first woke up, so I just laid there and waited, but then I didn’t hear anything downstairs.  I saw the picture on my nightstand and I started to cry.” Her breaths shuddered in and out. Zayn cradled her head in his hands as guilt twisted in his stomach. He rested his forehead against hers. He was probably hurting her right now; confusing her feelings, but he knew what he wanted and he was pretty sure she wanted it too. He didn’t deserve her anymore. He’d betrayed a broken girl’s hard earned trust. But just because he didn’t deserve her, didn’t mean he didn’t want her. A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. He wiped it away with his thumb.

                “I’ve missed you, Zayn,” she whispered. “Will you take me back?”

                “The question is not if I will take you back, because that’s obvious,” Zayn murmured. “The question is whether or not you will take me back.”

                She put her hands on either side of his face. “Haven’t I told you not to ask stupid questions?”

                “That’s not an answer. That’s another question.”

                “That’s not an answer either.”

                His hands slid from her face to her hips. “Are you really being difficult right now?”

                Micaela gave him a quick peck. “Of course I’ll take you back.”

                Zayn put a hand on the base of her neck and pulled her lips to his. Her hands clutched at the front of his shirt. Little moans kept sneaking out of her throat as they kissed. His pants were getting rather uncomfortable, but he wasn’t going to rush–.

                “What are you doing?” he mumbled as her hands fumbled with his pants.

                “What have I told you about stupid questions?” she muttered biting his lower lip.

                “Not to ask them,” he replied lifting her from the counter and sliding her skirt up. He pressed her body against a wall. Her fingers twisted into his hair holding his lips against hers. He shifted her weight and paused.

                “Why the hell are you waiting?” Micaela growled, glaring at him.

                “So I can see your face.”

                “My f–”

                Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened as he thrust into her. Her head tilted back giving him a perfect opportunity to nip and suck her throat. “Zayn…”

                He thrust again. Her eyes closed, but her mouth stayed open so he could slide his tongue inside. He shifted her again before thrusting in one more time. Her body shuddered between him and the wall. He groaned in satisfaction in her ear.

                Zayn reluctantly let her feet touch the ground again. She smiled up at him as she tried to smooth his hair back into order. He tried to do the same, but wound up kissing her again.

                “We should go back upstairs,” she murmured.

                Zayn stroked her cheek. He would stay down here with her forever if he could, but she was right. Someone may be missing them. “Alright; let’s go.”


	54. Niall and Delilah

## Niall and Delilah

                “Megan, I found her!” Delilah shouted as Micaela and Zayn returned to the party. Delilah grabbed Micaela’s hand. “You nearly killed Megan. She had no idea where you were and of course she jumps to you either being kidnapped or murdered.”

                “Of course she did.”

                Megan practically tackled her friend. “Oh my gosh! Where were you?”

                Niall came up behind Delilah as Micaela replied, “I was in the kitchen.” Delilah nudged Niall as Megan continued to interrogate Micaela. She nodded in the general direction of Zayn and Micaela. The two kept stealing glances at each other, “accidentally” brushing up against each other; something was going on.

                “What do you thing?” he whispered.

                “I think they finally made up,” she whispered back with a smile.

                “Really?”

                Delilah playfully hit him.

                “What are you two whispering about?” Louis asked.

                Delilah gave him an innocent smile. “Oh, nothing.” She leaned into Niall. “Stop interrogating her, Megan.”

                Megan turned away from Micaela. “Why? She scared me.”

                “Oh please, Megs. We’re at a wedding a highly secure wedding. Unless Liam’s aunt has some weird, misplaced vendetta against me, I’m perfectly safe,” Micaela said with a roll of her eyes.

                “Where were you, Zayn?” Delilah asked. “You disappeared too.”

                Zayn rubbed the back of his head. “I was,” he cleared his throat, “in the kitchen.”

                Everyone looked at him quizzically.

                “What’s going on, guys?” Liam asked with Danielle trailing behind him.

                Delilah giggled gleefully. “Micayn! Micayn is going on!”

                Micaela and Zayn closed their eyes and pinched their noses. “Please don’t call us that,” they said in unison.

                Megan grabbed Micaela by the shoulders. “What’s going on?”

                Micaela smiled and stepped back. Her hand intertwined with Zayn’s. She looked up with a smile. “We’re back together.” Megan pulled Micaela into a big hug.

                Delilah clapped her hands and jumped up and down. “I didn’t even have to put my plan into action!”

                Niall looked down at her. “You had a plan?”

                “Of course.” She sounded like that was supposed to be obvious. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. She pressed her body a little closer. Niall wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head.

                A stocky, bald man with a bulky camera hanging from his thick neck passed by. Danielle waved him over. “Let’s get a picture!” she declared.             

                Niall refused to let go of Delilah as they all gathered around Liam and Danielle. Harry grabbed Megan and held her waist tightly against him.

                “You two aren’t going to start saying things at the same time again are you?” Louis asked Micaela and Zayn.

                “No,” they replied together.

                Louis nibbled Eleanor’s ear as they fell in next to Megan and Harry.

                “Oh boy,” Niall muttered.

                Zayn rested his chin on Micaela’s shoulder, his hands around her waist.

                “Big smiles on three,” the photographer said. “One…two…three!” The camera flashed. He looked at the screen. “Got it.”


	55. 18 Months Later...Liam and Danielle

## Liam and Danielle

                Danielle’s sweaty face fell back against the pillow. Liam squeezed her hand and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

                “One more time, Mrs. Payne,” the doctor said.

                Danielle sucked in a big breath and pushed as Liam counted down.

                “One!”

                Danielle fell breathlessly back against the pillow.

                “Would you like to cut the cord, Mr. Payne?”

                Liam kissed Danielle’s forehead before joining the doctor at the end of the bed. “She’s beautiful,” he murmured. His new baby girl let out a squeaky wail as the doctor carried her over to a table to clean her up. Liam took Danielle’s hand again and stroked her hair.

                “She’s going to be a singer like her daddy,” Danielle whispered making Liam smile.

                “Here she is,” the doctor said, bringing Danielle a little bundle. Big brown eyes looked up at the overwhelmed new parents. “She’s so little,” Danielle breathed. She couldn’t help the tears that started rolling down her cheeks.

                “Oh, sweetie,” Liam cooed wiping the tears away with his thumb.

                “What are we going to name her?” Danielle asked.

                Liam reached in his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. They were torn between two: Emma Grace or Bella Jane. They took a careful look at their baby.

                “I think she’s an Emma Grace,” Danielle said quietly.

                “So do I.” Liam bent down and gently kissed his baby girl’s head. She stretched a tiny hand towards his nose. Liam put this index finger in the grip of her tiny fingers. Emma yawned and closed her eyes. Danielle smiled lovingly down at her baby.

 

                The mattress squeaked as Danielle got up again. She tried to let Liam sleep, but knew he would wake up with her and stay up until Emma went back to sleep. She lifted the little girl from the crib and started to sway with her back and forth. Liam passed by the door, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

                “Go back to bed,” Danielle said.

                “No,” Liam said from the kitchen. He returned with two cups of tea and a bottle under his arm. Danielle took the bottle, giving her husband a kiss. Emma sucked down the warm milk greedily. She let go of the bottle with a satisfied sigh. Danielle burped her before putting her back in the crib.

                “That was easier than last time,” he said handing her a cup of tea.

                Danielle took a sip. “Yes it was,” she agreed with a yawn.

                “Go back to sleep, love. I’ll be in in a couple of seconds.” Liam took the tea back to the fridge and joined his wife in the bedroom. She cuddled up next to him, her head on his chest. He rubbed circles into her arm with the tips of his fingers until he was sure she was asleep. He felt his eyes droop close just as Emma started wailing. Danielle was out of bed and he was close behind.


	56. 18 Months Later...Harry and Megan

## Harry and Megan

                On an island in the Caribbean was a large, one room complex. The wall facing the ocean was completely glass. A big bed faced the glass on the opposite wall. The complex included a couch, a small T.V., and a little kitchen area. Their suitcases were at the end of the bed with clothes tumbling out of them. The room was very quiet this morning.

                She stretched and yawned, feeling the empty space beside her. Her heart fluttered in panic. Where was he? She sat up and looked around. There was no note, no snickering from a hiding place. She trusted him, but she didn’t appreciate being scared and not knowing where he was. Her ears picked up the sound of a boat’s motor pulling up to the dock outside. She hopped out of bed to peek through the sheer curtain pulled over the window wall. Her eyes widened as she took a moment to drink in his appearance.

                His hair was played with by the wind. His gorgeous green eyes were hidden behind sunglasses sitting on his nose above a happy grin. His light blue button-down shirt hung open over his broad chest and sculpted abs. Her knees trembled at the sight of the line of his hips plunging beneath the band of his boxers and his cargo shorts. She had a rather erotic desire to lick and touch those lines. A bad in his hand swung back and forth as his flip flopped feet carried him towards her. She scurried back to bed and fell back under the blankets, pretending to be asleep so he could wake her up.

                The door opened and he spent some time in the kitchen. Something clinked against her nightstand before the bed dipped on the other side of her. A hot breath passed over her cheek as his lips made their way to her throat. He left a trail of five before whispering in her ear, “Good morning, baby girl.” She stretched, extending her arm, which he grabbed and planted a kiss on. “I made you breakfast,” he murmured.

                Megan looked at the tray of food on her nightstand. “Thanks, Harry.” She sat up and reached for the food. The tray balanced on her knees as they both ate. He kept one hand on her thigh the entire time.

                “What do you want to do today, M&M?” Harry asked when they were done. He got up to take the dishes to the sink.

                Her perverted mind put an answer on the tip of her tongue, but she bit back the urge to voice it. Harry gave her an over the shoulder glance with a smirk. “I saw that.”

                She met his eyes, embarrassed she’d been staring at his ass. “Saw what?”

                “You were checking me out.” He sauntered over to her. “I think I know what you want to do.”

                “Oh do you?”

                He nodded, his lips hovering over hers. “Yes I do.”

                Her hands caressed his exposed torso. “I guess I’m not that hard to figure out.”

                “No, you’re still a little complicated, but I’m learning your looks.” His lips gently pushed against hers. She pushed his shirt off and let it fall to the floor. Her fingers teased around the hem of his boxers and shorts. He removed the blankets between them, then shimmied out of his shorts and boxers and settled between her legs. His thumbs rubbed circles into her inner thighs. She lifted her hips against his.

                “I want you, Harry,” she murmured.

                “Thank you, Captain Obvious,” he teased.

                Megan blushed as his lips found hers. Harry pushed into her–hard. She wanted him and he wasn’t going to deny her. He thrust into her again making her scream his name. Exquisite pleasure tingled through her; she didn’t really want to do anything else today. Harry rammed into her once more and sent her into an orgasm. Harry rolled next to her, breathing heavily. He had his eyes closed, but could sense her looking him over. She wanted to thank him for loving her so much. Her eyes wandered to his V-line; that erotic desire revisited her.

                Her finger brushed along the line of Harry’s hip. It was a delicate, shy touch that left tingles behind itching him. “Do that again,” he mumbled dazedly with his eyes still closed. This time she used her lips and tongue, taking her time. “Oh, baby,” he moaned. She became fascinated by his “friend”. She slowly ran her hand up and down. “Fuck,” he hissed. She rested her head on her free hand and watched his face as she continued to stroke him. He kept clenching his jaw and arching his back. “Shit, Megs.” He grabbed her hand and flipped her over. He spread her legs and didn’t give her any warning before he thrust inside her. He worked quickly and brought them both to a second climax. He cuddled right next to her, his lips by her ear. “Let’s stay in today,” he whispered.


	57. 18 Months Later...Louis and Eleanor

## Louis and Eleanor

                “Do you think she’ll like it?” Louis asked.

                “Which ever you pick, Lou,” Darcy sighed.

                She leaned against the warm glass case. They’d been here for two hours already. Picking out a ring was not supposed to be this hard, but Louis was batting all these little insecurities. Was she going to want silver or gold? How many carats? One big diamond or multiple little ones? Louis drew both hands over his face. “Why is this so hard?” he groaned.

                “Because you won’t make a decision.” She looked down at some of the rings. “What about this one?”

                Louis looked. A small, silver band with one main diamond nestled between two smaller ones glittered up at him. “Why didn’t I see this one earlier?”

                Darcy chuckled. “You were too busy pulling your hair out over other things.”

                “Did you finally pick something out, Mr. Tomlinson?”

                Louis quirked his eyebrow at the sales-lady. “Yes. I _finally_ found something. That one.” She pulled out the ring and handed it to him. “What time is it?” he asked Darcy.

                She looked at her phone. “You have an hour.”

 

                Eleanor tucked her hair behind her ear as she tapped her foot nervously. Louis was late for their brunch. Well, she was slightly early and he was slightly late, so between the two of them they were on time. She craned her neck every time the door opened, but from her secluded table she couldn’t see anything. She could see men and women pacing around the front of the café, waiting for Louis. When Louis got here she’d know; the cameras would go crazy.

                “Why are you staring at that kid? He probably still lives with his parents.”

                Eleanor jumped and let out a little shriek when she heard the voice in her ear. Its owner chuckled and took the seat next to her.

                “Louis, you scared me,” Eleanor said shakily as she tried to calm herself.

                “Sorry, love.” A waitress brought them water and took their orders. Louis smiled at her to ease her obvious nerves. When she was gone, Louis took a sip of water and started tapping his foot anxiously against the floor. Eleanor furrowed her brow. “What’s wrong, Louis?”

                “Nothing,” he replied too quickly.

                She smiled, knowing he was hiding something. “Louis, what are you hiding?”

                He reached into his pocket and held the little black box where Eleanor couldn’t see. He was ready and he was 99.9% sure she was ready, but it was that little .1% of uncertainty that had hi feeling like he was auditioning for the X Factor all over again. He pulled at the collar of his shirt and cleared his throat.

                “Well I…” He flipped the box over and over in his hand. “I was thinking the other day–”

                “That’s never a good sign,” Eleanor teased.

                “No, it’s not,” Louis chuckled nervously. “Anyway… I was thinking about us the other day.”

                Eleanor felt like she went into free fall. Louis was still talking, but she wasn’t listening anymore. This could go one of two ways.

                Way One: Louis had been out one day with Harry and they’d stumbled across this semi-normal fan who didn’t attack them, but was really excited to see them. They’d talked for a while and ended up getting lunch. She was funny and interesting and had been wearing a dress that wasn’t too short, but was short enough for Louis to look. The last couple of week he’d thought of nothing but this fan girl. After talking to Harry and Darcy and the other boys, he realized that he wanted to get to know this fan better and didn’t want her–Eleanor–around anymore.

                Way Two:

                “Will you marry me, Eleanor?”

                She blinked rapidly at the boy on his knee in front of her only minimally aware of the shouting and banging at the windows. Little beads of sweat stood out on Louis’ forehead, probably from nerves. In his shaking hands in a little box was the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen.

                “Yes,” her voice cracked with emotion.

                His fingers trembled as he slid the ring on her finger.


	58. 18 Months Later...Niall and Delilah

## Niall and Delilah

                Delilah kicked open the door after struggling with her keys and the groceries for five minutes. Where was Niall and why wasn’t he helping her? He comes home to Ireland for a few weeks and he thinks he can just lie around and do nothing. She was going to have to set him straight.

                “Hello? Anyone home?” she called. She put the grocery bags she’d been carrying on the counter. “Niall? Maize? Max?”  

                Where were they? Delilah wondered as she went back to the car to grab the last couple of bags. But when she returned to the kitchen, the other two bags were gone. “C’mon guys,” Delilah yelled.

                She was starting to get a little creeped out by the silence; she could rarely get the three of them to shut up when they got together. Now that they were being secretive, the three of them were probably planning some exploding mouse trap that he thought would be a good “life lesson” for the kids.

                “I’m counting to–!” Delilah screamed when Niall poked her sides. Maize and Max burst into fits of giggles.

                “Did I scare you, Lilah?” Niall asked innocently.

                “Niall Horan,” she growled but she was cut off as his lips pushed against hers. She didn’t want it to end, but they were interrupted by two little voices squealing, “Ewww…”

                Niall broke away from Delilah and crouched down to the twins’ level. “What was that?”

                Maize giggled nervously, seriously considering that Niall was upset with them. Max crossed his arms in an effort to appear older and bigger than he was. “Why were you snogging my sister?”

                Niall looked over his shoulder. “That’s you sister?” Max nodded. Niall turned back to the little boy and stage whispered, “I thought she was your mom!”

                Delilah pretended to be offended. “Niall!”

                Niall’s face turned from cheek to a pretend fear. “We better run!” He took off with the twins, running around in circles in the living room and then upstairs. They wanted her to chase after them, but she wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. She began putting the groceries away–the two missing bags had been hidden under the sink–but she heard squealing and giggling upstairs. “Delilah, help us! He’s tickling us!” the twins yelled.

                She sighed and rolled her eyes; if she didn’t go up there he wouldn’t stop. (She’d tried ignoring him before.)

                “I’m coming up!” she warned.

                At her bedroom door the laughing stopped. The twins tried to be quiet as they caught their breath, but they always had a volume issue; they were loud all the time. Delilah pushed open the door.

                The twins were lying on the bed, pink cheeked and out of breath. Their eyes seemed to be on her, but Delilah noticed they were focused slightly behind her. She was about to ask what was behind her–she hoped it wasn’t a spider–when they hopped off the bed and raced downstairs.

                “How much time do we get?” he murmured, sliding his hands around her waist.

                “Five minutes. We get five minutes,” she breathed in his ear.


	59. 18 Months Later...Micaela and Zayn

## Micaela and Zayn

                She groaned as she stretched, resting her body on her forearms. Squinting around the room she made a mental check list of all she would have to do to clean up. She couldn’t really remember when the last person left the party or if she even stayed up for the entire thing. She raked her fingers through her hair and stood up.

                Plates, cups, napkins, and stray pieces of popcorn littered the room. Micaela was sure there was more throughout the house, if house was the proper thing to call it. For her twentieth birthday and to escape London’s insanity, Zayn surprised her with a get away to the French countryside in a secluded chalet. It was a good hour’s drive to the nearest town. Micaela chuckled to herself as he gathered up some plates and cups to take to the trash downstairs. Last night had been her surprise birthday party. Everyone–even Jack and Lizzie who were a serious couple now–was there and the last person she remembered leaving left at 1:30 a.m. Zayn had slipped away early to go to sleep; he was still trying to catch up on the sleep work deprived him of (though work wasn’t the only thing keeping him up at night). Micaela laughed at herself; what weird thoughts she had.

                Downstairs was quiet and movie-like as pink sunlight poured through the numerous windows. The sky hadn’t shed its grey mist just yet, but she was sure it would be bright blue today. A little bird hopped on the windowsill, curiously peeking in at her. Micaela leaned against the counter as she watched the little bird. A squeak from the floor told her she was no longer alone.

                Zayn stood in the kitchen doorway bathed in the early sunlight. His hair was tousled by sleep and sticking out in twenty different directions over his still sleepy face. He rubbed drowsy eyes with the palm of his strong hand. Only wearing boxers and a wrinkled pair of socks, most of his body was exposed. Micaela couldn’t ignore the magnetic attraction she felt towards him. He put his hands on his hips and squinted around him. “Good morning,” he greeted huskily.

                “Good morning, love.”

                Zayn went to her, placing a hand on either side of her little waist so she was imprisoned against the counter. She was wearing the shirt he’d bought at the carnival in Australia and a pair of his boxers. “Did I fall asleep during the party?”

                Micaela nodded. “Yes.”

                “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

                She placed a hand on either of his arms and rubbed gently up and down. “You were tired and looked so perfect asleep. I didn’t’ want to disturb you.”

                He drew his arms away from her hands and intertwined his fingers with hers. Resting his forehead on hers he asked, “Have I told you how much I love you?”

                Micaela closed her eyes with a smile, “Not today.”

                He gently kissed her cheek, but before he did he murmured, “I love you more than stars.” He planted another kiss on her other cheek before scooping her into his arms. She held onto his neck as he carried her out of the kitchen.

                “Where are we going?” She asked, her head resting against his chest.

                “The shower,” He said casually.

                Her head snapped up. “The shower?”

                “Yep.”

                “And I’m coming why?”

                He gave her a puzzled look. “Isn’t it obvious? I need your help to get my back properly soaped up.”

                Micaela chuckled as she let her head rest on his chest and his arms tightened around her.


End file.
